


Tumblr Giveaways 1

by ADeadlySheep



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator, Final Fantasy XV, Overwatch (Video Game), Red Dead Redemption, The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, BDSM, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Body Image, Butt Plugs, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Chubby Reader, Collar play, Collars, Dancing, Death, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Drunken Violence, Drunkenness, Fighting, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gangbang, Giveaway, Goodbyes, Gore, Gun Violence, Hair-pulling, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, Knives, Leashes, Light Angst, Mentions of Violence, Mermaid!Reader, Mermaids, Mild Gore, Multi, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Physical Abuse, Power Play, Pure Loving, Rough Sex, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Violence, Slapping, Soft Love, Soft sex, Spanking, Teasing, Transformation, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Vaginal Sex, Vampire Hanzo Shimada, Vampires, Van Helsing McCree, Vanilla, Violence, Werewolf Arthur, Werewolf Arthur Morgan, Werewolf Gladiolus Amicitia, Werewolf Transformation, Werewolves, Wounds, alcoholic, ball room dancing, blowjob, broken glass, collaring, happy endings, mentions of abuse, mentions of torture, sad endings, smacking, stretch marks, vanilla sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADeadlySheep/pseuds/ADeadlySheep
Summary: 15 stories requested by 15 giveaway winners.





	1. “Too Many Drinks”: Brian Harding x Reader (NSFW)

**Author's Note:**

> This Chapter Contains The Following:  
> Kinks: Butt plugs, orgasm denial, public.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Blow - Beyonce ft Pharrell Williams

Your skin even disliked the ugly sweater Amanda had picked out for you as soon as your fingers met the uncomfortable wool, and you hadn’t even tugged it on yet! You couldn’t even question her as she had shoved it in your hands before rushing out the door, nearly bumping into Daisy on the way out. Your face retracted in confusion as you held the sweater out at arm’s length, allowing the sweater to spill down and reveal the sweater Amanda had made for you during her free time at college.

There was so much tinsel and fake small little ornaments on it (a few even falling off of the sweater and onto the hardwood floors and shattering), you had no idea how the wool was still together. You got the basic idea that Amanda obviously was trying to make you a tree.

You questioned for a moment thinking if there was a time where you didn’t realize you caused Amanda to want revenge on you so bad that she would make such a thing.

You sighed, knowing that Amanda would force you to wear it and proceed to push you out of the house to Trivia night even if it was the last thing she would ever be able to do. You stood up, accepted your fate that you would look like a Christmas tree left behind in the bargain bin at the dollar store, and tugged the heavy neon green sweater over your head, being careful not to rip the cords of tinsel or drop any more small ornaments until your head popped out from the slightly small hole. It clung to your neck, but it didn’t choke you.

Your gaze turned to fall on the full-length mirror that really just became a half mirror due to all of the clutter Amanda brought back from college, but the clutter just small enough to reveal most of your torso. You deadpanned, your mind blanked for a second. You wanted to laugh at the idiot who decided to dress up like a Christmas tree, only to stop when it dawned upon you that you really do look like a rejected Christmas tree not even Charlie Brown could want to hang an ornament from. You looked like a hot mess, and not the hot mess as in a good looking one, you really did look awful in this.

You were about to slip the sweater off when you heard a strong knock on your front door before it opened up, revealing your big auburn boyfriend with Maxwell waddling in right behind him. Brian was wearing a sweater too, but at least his looked adorable.

It was a blue yarn crochet sweater with white snowflakes in neat lines behind the red cuffs that lined the turtleneck and the cuffs of the sleeves. A corgi was stitched on the broad expanse of his chest and gut, a dorky little smile on its face, the corgi itself was wearing an ugly sweater too: A red sweater with white bones and green balls on it.

Even Maxwell was wearing an ugly sweater, the white wool forming around his fluffy fur and soft pudge. You couldn’t see what the design was.

“Hey,” Brian smiled at you, his auburn beard swaying, snow was still in it.

The skin around the corners of his eyes crinkled and wrinkled with warm, but his eyes seemed to hold an emotion you couldn’t identify. Was is mischief?

“Hey,” you smiled back, absent-mindedly plucking at the loose strands of wool on your sweater while Maxwell sat on your bare feet.

“Are you going to the trivia thing tonight?” he questioned as he leaned on the still open doorframe.

‘I don’t want to, I wanna stay with you,’ your mind spoke as you stared into his warm eyes.

It wasn’t a blizzard outside, but the snow was coming down heavy. You couldn’t even feel the cold leaking into your house nor it brushing past your hair and nipping at your nose. You could only feel heat pooling at your cheeks the longer you stared at Brian before you.

“I am. I kinda have to, Amanda’s dragging me even if I tie myself to the couch.”

“Daisy’s the same way,” Brain laughed, showing his straight white teeth in a big smile. “Smart girl always loved these kinds of things.” Suddenly, Brian puffed out his chest and stepped into your house, closed the door behind him, pulling something out from behind his back. “I uh… I got you something,” he winked.

It was a present. It looked so small in his large, meaty hand. It was rectangular and long, not really thick in width, wrapped with green and red striped glossy paper, tied with a gold ribbon into a small bow on top. It had a little tag hanging off of the side too, gold as well with black letters.

“Brian, you didn’t have to,” you murmured.

You were obliged to rush back to your room to snatch up the gift you had gotten him, you were about to when Brian placed the gift in your hands.

“Open it,” he winked.

Your cheeks heated, your eyes falling to the package now in your hands. It wasn’t really heavy, but it had some weight to it. You looked at the golden tag off to the side to see not Brian’s messy scribble, but careful, delicate letters that spelled out your name. Brian always rushed his handwriting, so him taking time to write your name clearly and neatly means this is something he’s serious about. Slowly and carefully, you peeled away the wrapping paper to reveal a cardboard box lying just underneath the glossy wrapping paper. Your eyes widened at the logo on the box, as it belonged to the adult store just on the edge of Maple Bay.

“Brian,” you started.

“If you don’t want to do this, I’m not gonna force you into anything, but you mentioned you wanted to try something new. So,” he nodded to the box in your hands.

You pulled apart the folds until it popped open, moved the tissue paper and thin layer of styrofoam for your eyes to land on a remote. It was a small, black, thin remote and it only had five buttons on it, each labeled to their respected number with white ink that would sure to be wiped off from sweat after a few good sessions.

You raised a brow and looked up at Brian, only to watch as his thick fingers slipped the remote from its little groove in the hard plastic molding. It looked so much smaller in his hand than it would yours. He nodded back to the box.

“There’s still more to it. On the bottom, peel it up,” he pointed at the box with the remote still clasped between his fingers.

You did as he said, your nails digging under the top plastic molding and peeling it away to reveal the other piece of your present. Your jaw slackened and your eyebrows climbed higher on your forehead when your eyes landed on the butt plug sitting comfortably into its own respected groove in its own plastic layer mold. It was hot pink, the head was capped with a black coat. It was thick at the base, forming a near trunk before it started to thin out to a rounded top.

You knew the dumb question was going to leave your lips, so you just let it happen.

“What’s the remote for?” you questioned as you looked up at him.

Brian simply raised the hand that held the remote and pressed the button labeled '1’. Instantly the box in your hands started to vibrate slightly, the butt plug vibrating and humming in its plastic mold.

Your cheeks felt on fire, your stomach now tangled up in sailor knots as you thought of what he was planning on doing with a vibrating butt plug at this time.

Was he just showing you now so you know what’ll happen after the trivia contest? Or was he-

The glint in his eyes told you exactly what he was planning on doing.

“Do you wanna do this?” he questioned as he stopped the butt plug from vibrating.

“Through all the contest?”

“If you want it to go through the whole contest. Like I said: I won’t force you into this if you don’t want to do anything you don’t want to.”

* * *

Your elbows pressed and dug into the wood of the table before you, your knees shaking just a bit as you tried to get comfortable on the stiff, old cushion. You and Brian sat in the back corner of the room, where it was dim and cast shadows dark enough to hide your face and how it contorts whenever Brian presses the first button every now and then. He never went higher than the first button, not yet at least.

The plug in your ass was uncomfortable, and whenever it would vibrate to life, it only escalated the feelings and tension coiling up inside of you just to halt and make you whine a bit each time Brian would stop the plug. The plug sat unmoving for now, Brian sitting next to you with the remote obscured to anyone who isn’t paying attention, perfect for the event.

Amanda and Daisy were clustered in between a bunch of other kids and teens, arguing who would answer and who would not. The two were simply sitting with each other, speaking like normal human beings in between all of the chaos, quickly to be joined by Carmensita not too long after too long after.

“You think they’ll be alright over there?” Brian chuckled as he nodded to the two kids starting to wrestles each other after some fallout.

“Amanda’s there,” you said absent-mindedly as you scrolled through your phone.

Brian was quiet, you could feel his green-eyed gaze on you as if he were questioning what you just said. It didn’t bother you until you had just realized what had left your lips. Your eyes widened and you felt as though you wanted to smack yourself in the face repeatedly.

* * *

“Are you only going to keep it on one?” you whimpered into your glass.

“Is that an invitation to go higher?” Brian mused as he set his beer bottle down.

“The suspense is killing me, is all!” you sputtered, your face heating up once more.

Brian smirked at you, bringing the lip of his beer bottle back up to his lips and took a sip before eyeing the other parents starting to sit down in front of you, Mat and Hugo sitting down on either side of you and Brian, still continuing their conversations from before.

“Ernest refuses to come to these sorts of places, especially if it’s with me,” Hugo chuckled as he set his drink down.

“He’s just in one of those rebellious preteen phases. He’ll grow out of it,” Mat brushed him off as he plopped down next to you.

You didn’t notice Brian’s finger press down on another button until you suddenly groaned, your head falling into one of your hands as you winced. The vibrations shot right through you, heat coiling up more and more in your gut as the contraption continued to shake and shudder inside of the pucker of your ass. There he went, going up the next level. Mat and Hugo raised their brows in confusion as they looked at you with your head in your hands.

“Are you alright (Y/n)?” Mat piped up.

“They’ve just been drinking their weight in beer, that’s what’s wrong!” Brian laughed as he clapped you on the back.

Hugo winced, sipping lightly from his drink. He attempted to lighten the mood.

“That surely is an ugly sweater (Y/n), where did you get it from?” he smiled.

“Amanda made it for me,” you groaned as you went to take another sip from your glass until Brian forced the glass down.

You shot him a pointed look only to bit the inside of your quivering lip when he gave you the same look back.

“Maybe you should lay off the drinks for a while,” he winked, his plump lips coming up into a shit-eating grin you wanted to smack off of his face.

You could see the remote under the table, his thumb hovering over and tracing the outline of the number five, nail digging into the rubber just a bit until you nodded.

“Alright,” you barely managed over a whisper before sitting back against the old leather seat.

The lights in the room suddenly darkened except for the ones by the bar where the “all famous” Quizmaster Quinn emerged from, donned with holiday-themed ugly flower sweater instead of his usual Hawaiian shirt, thus bringing your attention back to Brian still teasing you under the table by playing around with (but not pressing) the buttons on the remote.

The air between you two was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Your eyes would occasionally move back and forth between Quinn who was strutting like an idiot taking three years to introduce himself and the remote that Brian kept fiddling with until he pressed the third button this time.

Your hands jerked down to your knees quickly where your nails sunk into the fabric of your jeans. The back of your head pressed into the cushion as a soft whine left you, your eyes screwing shut and teeth biting into your lip. The vibrations only made it harder for you to breathe, your heart pounded and beat up against your chest. You wanted to cry out loudly, thrust your head back and plead for Brian to take you right there.

However, you could see Brian’s lips curl up into a devious smirk. His large fingers let go of the button, left the remote on the seat in between the two of you and allowed his hand to rest on your thigh, his fingers digging into the meat of your inner thigh, rubbing small circles into the heat, shaking skin.

You groaned softly and blinked away the tears of torment, the heat coiled up in your gut only made you feel even more stimulated and anxious, only pleading now for Brian to press another button, even if he went back to button number one would be great comfort to your craving body.

The loud noises surrounding you only made your head swim, the alcohol pooled in your stomach sat heavy like iron bars, the room was spinning even though you were sitting still.

Brian, noticing you looking just as you were, only decided to feed your needs, his large meaty fingers pressing down on another button, you were guessing button number four as the vibrations shocked your body and made everything in your mind turn to white static.

You let out a loud whimper just as people started to laugh, making you so thankful that you were in a bigger crowd for this. The coils only tightened until you could feel yourself being dragged closer to the cliff of pleasure until the plug in your ass stopped abruptly.

Your eyes snapped open, shooting over to glare at Brian as he found himself entranced with the back of the remote.

You shook your head, growling quietly to Brian to stop as you knew exactly what he was doing.

You were helplessly watching, knowing that people would know exactly what was happening if they were to see the remote in Brian’s hands and kick you both out and ruin your reputations.

Brian simply popped the back open to reveal a D battery, and he simply popped it out of its socket, closed the backing and slipped both items into the pocket of his khaki pants. He glanced at you and shrugged.

“Is there a problem?” he questioned.

“Brian,” you growled from between your grit teeth.

“(Y/n), put your head down, you drank too much,” Brian tutted as he rubbed his large hand over the expanse of your back, acting as though nothing had just happened. “I’ll take you home,” he grunted soft enough for you to hear.


	2. A Flash of Fangs: Vampire!Hanzo x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Angst, more angst, blood.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Die For You - The Weekend

He hadn't been home for so long. The months pulling at the back of your mind, whispering in your ear unforgiving events that haunted you, keeping you up all night worrying about him. You couldn't focus properly, not without your mind lingering back to him, worrying if he was alright or not.

Was he dead? Bleeding out in a side alley? Captured by Talon and being experimented on? Captured by Talon and turned into a monster like what had happened with Amelie?

You hated how these thoughts crawled in your mind and your daily life so much so that it started to affect everything you were doing. Every time you would write on documents important for work, you ended up writing his name over and over again as if you were being questioned to see if it was your handwriting at the scene of the crime. Every time you were asked to help out with something around base, you found yourself distracted by a memory you and Hanzo shared of the room or the area or hey, that was the tree we fell asleep at and those are the same flowers you picked and gave to you on your first date.

You felt like you were suffocating in all of this, not knowing whether or not he was fine or not. You were nauseous and nervous, anxious but demanding, yet you couldn't bring yourself to march into Winston's laboratory to demand reasoning why the mission Hanzo was assigned to had been drawn out for so long. You couldn't bring yourself to knock on Angela's door in the middle of the night to plead with her to give you sleeping pills or anxiety pills to quell your heart running miles a minute. You couldn't even stand to look at Morrison to ask if he knew, not even bothering asking Athena when you were alone in your room if she knew anything, not even asking his brother Genji if he knew what had happened.

* * *

 

Your stomach was always in knots, your heart was always pulsing anxiety through your veins, your head was always pounding from the sleepless nights replaced by countless cups of coffee in the morning.

You were starting to look how you felt. You started slipping up, forgetting to care for yourself properly. Your hair slowly became tangled, the bags under your eyes grew bigger and darker, you became thinner from skipping meals as you went on your own little rants to yourself how you were going to go to Romania and drag Hanzo back to base yourself even if it were the last thing you do.

Everyone grew worried for you, but you still bit your tongue, afraid of the news looming over you as if you were sent to the guillotine for death, the large, heavy metal blade looming above you, ready to strike at any second.

Genji showed up at your door one day with Zenyatta and McCree right behind him, all three showing concern as they were close to Hanzo as well. However, instead of attempting to cheer you up and calm you down by stating Hanzo was fine... But that was not the case.

Genji had Hanzo's jacket in his hands, neatly folded and cleaned and stitched up. He didn't say anything to you, simply placing it down on your bed before hugging you tightly. You couldn't even register what was going on, you were shocked, feeling hollow. The hoodie felt like lead in your hands, the hoodie bringing you to your knees at an instant as tears effortlessly poured from your eyes.

Horrid sobs wracked your body, your body shaking as you wailed into the fabric. Genji had followed soon behind you, quietly sinking to his knees, his metal arms wrapping around your quivering shoulders, his fingers grasping and clawing at the loose fabric of your hoodie you hadn't taken off for so long, his metal palms pressing and digging into your skin as soft sobs left his lips.

Zenyatta and McCree circled the two of you on the floor, Zenyatta's metal hands rubbing fine circles into the exposed maroon rubber that layered on top of Genji's scarred skin, whispering calming things and humming. Jesse stood behind you, placing his serape over your shoulders before gripping them. You could feel teardrops on the back of your neck and you could hear him start to sniffle and softly weep behind you.

The four of you sat like that for Gods knows how long until Angela opened up the door to your room and smiled sympathetically at you four mourning.

* * *

 

"What happened to him, Angie?" you whimpered as you wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands.

"He was taken by Talon on his patrol from the rooftops," she murmured softly, scribbling something down on her clipboard as she eyed you occasionally. "When he did not report back within an hour, knowing Hanzo as the agent he is, a search party was sent out to track his location... and then they found his hoodie torn and his tracking device smashed. Local camera footage did not help anything, only just showing him being taken away into the alley, and then Overwatch agents stumbling upon his hoodie."

Anglea turned the monitor on her desk to show you the footage. Hanzo carefully climbing down from the rooftops, and upon landing, he was swarmed from all angles by Talon agents, forced to succumb after attempting to fight them off, losing his hoodie in the struggle, and then being dragged by his ankles into the alley.

Your heart pounded against your chest, fresh tears now pouring freely down your face as you whimpered and soon started to cry.

Angela quickly turned the monitor away from you, tossing the clipboard on her desk before looking towards her medicine cabinet, eyeing a row.

"Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep?" she murmured before looking back at you.

You soon pressed your palms to your eyes to try and stop crying, but the sobs soon wracked your body and you started to break down.

"Hanzo," you cried out into the palms of your hands.

* * *

 

It's been a week and you had not gotten better. You've gotten worse in fact. You refused to come out of your room, only staying in bed to curl around Hanzo's hoodie, taking in the last of his scent that clung to the fabric. You had even gone as far as sticking a pillow into the fabric so you could feel like he was still here beside you, just asleep. But every time you would look up where the hood is, you see no resting face that seemed to be carved out of marble and you are reminded of how alone you are in this world.

People would come knock on your door, try to coax you out with food or fun things to do. Hana tried to coax you out with video games, Lucio tried with music, Tracer offering to pick you up something the next time she went out for supplies. Ana and Angela would often barge into the room with Morrison and Jesse and Fareeha right behind them to tidy up your room, throw open your curtains, and force you into your bathroom where they scrubbed you down. You did this for them, allowed them to take care of you as if you were a child, but you wouldn't let them go near Hanzo's hoodie, swatting scratching, cursing and threatening them if they even moved the fabric.

More and more people would drop by to check on you, offering you more things to help cheer you up. Mei offered some homemade Chinese food, Zarya offered you a great workout to clear your head, Angela offered you yoga recordings, Zenyatta offered meditation, Morrison offered a jog with Tracer and himself around base, but you declined them all. You wanted to be alone while you healed.

So whenever they would barge into your room to clean up and force you to take care of yourself, you would just close the window, shut the curtains, turn the lights off and go back to your bed to cuddle against Hanzo's hoodie that still held his bold scent.

And there you were again, pulling the curtains closed one night, shutting the window to keep the cold breeze out before you crawled into bed next to the pillow wearing Hanzo's hoodie, cuddled up to it and let the medications Angela gave you to do their work.

One night, in your drugged haze, you were startled by a tap at your window. The room swayed side to side as you sat up, the tapping only echoing in your head and making your temples pound. Standing up was a bigger challenge than sitting up, your legs wobbling and threatening to give out beneath you. Slowly, you shuffled towards your window, yanked back the curtains only to jump back and shriek at the dark figure standing at your window.

They quickly held up their hands, backing away from the window. Their posture coiling up tightly, shrinking away from your window now.

"Do not scream, (Y/n)," its gruff voice cut through the silence and through the window's thickness.

That voice, it sounded so familiar... It sounded like-

Hanzo!

Your eyes widened, tears burning as you threw open the window, pulling apart the curtains even more to see his dark figure and what little details you could make out with the moonlight behind him.

He was thinner, messier, small scratches and scars, but he was shaking and trembling. You couldn't see his eyes, but you knew they were wild from what he had endured at Talon.

"Hanzo," you whimpered. You backed away from the window, watching as he effortlessly climbed into your room and shut the window behind him. "What... What happened to you? What did Talon do to you?" you whimpered as you saw his tattered clothing and dried blood crusted over a good portion of his exposed skin. You moved closer to Hanzo, raising your hands to cup the sides of his face."What did they do to you, Hanzo?" you whimpered as your fingers traced over his skin.

He was cold and clammy, scarred and scratched up. His facial hair felt finer and spread out farther than his usual goatee. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, but they also showed his torment, his torture that he had gone through. He looked like a wolf that was just beaten and thrown back into its cage. Ragged, beaten, bruised, dried blood crusted all over his exposed skin. His clothes were torn to near shreds, he was barefoot. His hair was an absolute mess, his undershave needed a desperate trim, his oily black locks tangled and rugged, spilling over his broad shoulders. You could see needle marks on his neck and down the expanse of his arms.

He seemed to melt in your hands, eyes fluttering closed, his much larger hands coming up to cup your hands to squeeze them tightly. He took deep breaths, his whole body seemingly uncoiling from the built up tension until he suddenly reeled back, shoving you away from him.

You stumbled back from him, obviously hurt from his rejection. You winced when Hanzo took even more steps back, hands up and eyes wild and untrusting.

"Hanzo," you whimpered.

What did Talon do to this man? What did they do to strip him of his confidence, his one polished and disciplined posture and mindset? His calm mind? His strong figure? How did they turn him into this sort of animal that can't even trust his own lover? What did they inject him with? How long was he tortured and experimented on?

"They did something to me," he panted, keeping his face cast in the shadows.

In the pale moonlight, you saw his teeth illuminated awkwardly by her pale light. They looked so sharp and jagged, but you knew the light was playing tricks on you, that and the sleeping pills left in your system. You took a step forward, stepping into the moonlight pouring in from your window only for him to take a step back into the shadows.

"Hanzo, whatever they did to you, Angela and Winston can help fix it," you countered softly.

"They can't cure this," he hissed, his eyes changing in the lack of light.

Your eyes widened two red dots suddenly glowed vibrantly where he stood, taking over his once amber hues.

"What did they do to you?" you whimpered, covering your mouth with your fingers to keep you from crying. He hissed again, taking a step forward this time, just enough for you to see the sharp fangs in his mouth. "Vampire," you murmured.

"It was a mistake for me to come back," Hanzo spat, moving back to the window.

"Hanzo, wait!" you called as you snatched his wrist. Hanzo didn't take kindly to your actions, snatching up your hand and squeezing it firmly, dragging you close to his chest. "Stay."

"I will kill you," he growled, baring his fangs at you. "Who knows if I will snap? If I will harm other?" He looked down at your wrist snagged in his large hand. "If I will kill you?" he murmured.

He carefully let go of your wrist.

"You won't. You're surrounded by people who care about you, who love you, who are here to support you." You laced your fingers with his, squeezing them gently. "We're all here for you. Nothing bad will happen to you again. I promise."

"(Y/n)," he murmured. He took a few small steps forward so he too was standing in the moonlight with you. His eyes were so beautiful, like cut rubies. "I-"

"Do you need anything? Time? A shower? Angela?" you paused, looking at his pearly white fangs shining in the moonlight. "Blood?" you murmured.

Hanzo shook his head, eyes widening as he quickly let go of your hands and backed away from you once more.

"I cannot ask you of such a thing! I could-"

"Hanzo," you stopped him, "you can't be living your life on 'what if' and 'I could'. I'm offering so you won't have to harm someone else. I want to prove that I still trust you and to show I still love you. You need to place trust in yourself or this won't work out. You could actually hurt someone, maybe even yourself."

Hanzo only looked to the floor before nodding. he knew you were right, there was no denying it. What better time to start than now?

Hanzo carefully walked up to you, gripped your shoulders and looked you in the eye.

"I love you," he murmured.

"And I love you," you hummed.

He slowly lowered his head to your throat, his nose brushing against your skin and pressing into the columns of your neck, inhaling deeply at your scent he missed oh so much. You could feel his fangs grazing and brushing against your bare throat, his fangs were icy cold, only sending shivers down your spin as you moaned softly. Hanzo suddenly licked at your throat, his tongue was just as cold as his fangs, making you moan and tilt your head back.

The pressure of Hanzo's hands on your shoulders loosened, one of Hanzo's hands crawling up to cradle your head in one of his large palms while the other one fell to your waist, drawing you closer to his person.

Your eyes fluttered, head pushing against his palm. Your fingers gripped at his tattered shirt, stretching the fabric and breaking a few strands here and there.

Hanzo's jaws unhinged, you could feel his fangs press into the side of your neck, right at the curve. It hurt at first when his fangs sank into your skin, a whimper of pain escaping your lips before you suddenly moaned. Your legs felt weak, knees wobbling as you suddenly gripped onto Hanzo's broad shoulders so you wouldn't fall. However, your legs did give way, but Hanzo quickly fell to his knees with you still in his grip, his jaws still connected to your shoulder.

You felt light-headed as Hanzo drank from you, soft growls and grunts leaving the man's lips as he continued to drink from you.

The room started to sway and shake, colors fading and bleeding into one another until your eyes slowly closed. You felt as though you were a guest on cloud nine, moans leaving your lips as your body seemingly craved for more attention from Hanzo even if it meant he drained you dry.

Hanzo quickly pulled his fangs from your skin, licking the holes he had made in your neck as your head fell onto his shoulder. Your shoulders slouched, your hands slipping down to your lap before your eyes finally shut, your mind slipping into a state of peace as you felt Hanzo carefully picking you up and carrying you off into the abyss of your room.


	3. Shine on Him, Miss Moon: Werewolf!Arthur Morgan x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Soft angst, gore, transformation.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Africa - Weezer

“Arthur’s probably drunk in some back alley,” Micah spat, scuffing the toes of his boots against the dirt floor of the camp. “Typical Morgan, drink himself under the bar and get in a load o’ shit that we have to dig him out of.”

“And what about you?” John retorted. That mouth of yours gets us all in trouble, more times than you can count, you inbred pig.“

Micah spat at John’s feet before dropping his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, stalking away before he caused more trouble than he could handle.

"Do you really think he drank himself under?” you questioned John.

“No, Arthur always takes one of us with him when he does. Mostly Lenny and Charles and you, but he never goes alone.” John hauled a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and started trekking over to Pearson’s tables full of food. “Somethin’ happened to him out there, but I don’ know what. I just hope nothin’ bad. The man’s been through enough shit.”

You stopped walking beside John and turned back to your tent you shared with Arthur, stopping at the entrance to look over Arthur’s neglected fur roll and clutter next to your fur roll and clutter. You sighed, your eyes lowering as you stepped inside and lowered the flaps of the tent to at least give you just a bit of privacy despite the thin fabric of the tent itself. You passed your bedroll to Arthur’s slowly lowering yourself until you were laying against the fur and cloth that was drowned in his scent: Tobacco and whiskey and sweat filling your nose and making your chest tighten from worry. Your fingers curled around the messy fur, nails plucking and ripping the tangled furs apart absent-mindedly as you focused on what John had said just moments ago.

“Somethin’ happened to him out there, but I don’ know what.”

For once in your time of joining this damned gang, you prayed what Micah had said was actually true. You just hoped that Arthur had drank himself under the bar somewhere and just happened to be alone when it happened.

A startled shout off in the distance caught your attention, the sounds of hooves rushing against dirt and stone only made you sit up faster before rushing out of your tent into the middle of camp where others were gathered.

You spotted Charles with Arthur’s horse in tow behind his own, galloping right into the middle of camp, just barely missing Miss Grimshaw and Dutch. Behind Charles, you saw Arthur slumped over the saddle, arms and legs limp, his clothes a complete bloody mess.

You couldn’t help but whimper, clasping your hand over your mouth to keep the soft sobs in, tears pricking your eyes and threatening to spill.

“What in God’s name happened to him?” Dutch ordered as he helped Charles and Lenny hoist Arthur off of the back of Charles’ horse.

“I found him like this!” Charles fired back, glaring at Dutch who now stood doing nothing as he and Lenny hauled Arthur towards your tent. “Found him in the middle of a field like this, his horse was the one that gave him away!” You rushed to your tent, opening up the flap just enough for the two men to lay Arthur down on his roll. “I didn’t see an animal or man around!”

“You think it was a wolf? Maybe a coyote got to him when he was camping?” Lenny offered as he laid Arthur down on his roll.

The two men backed away from Arthur just enough for you to get a good look at your lover. A small gasp left you, tears now slowly falling down your cheeks as you looked over the man you loved.

Scratches tore his skin all over, purple and yellow bruises kissed his skin, blood crusted over his skin and clothes that were ripped and scratched at. His fingers were scratched up, he surely didn’t go down without a fight. What drew your attention the most was the large bite mark overlapping his shoulder, going from his right collar bone and hiding behind his back, most likely tearing into the back of his shoulder. The holes were stuffed up and wrapped with cotton cloth, probably a rush job done by Charles upon finding him in the field. His face was battered and beaten, scratched up and bruised from probably being beaten into the ground by the animal that did this. Dirt and dried mud clumped up his hair and stained his skin, blood crusting on his facial hair. Charles must’ve cleaned the gunk and blood from Arthur’s eyes and mouth as they were clean and bare.

“A coyote can’t make a bite that big, neither can a wolf,” Charles stated as he looked at the bite mark. “A bear maybe? But why would it leave him behind and not finish him?”

“Now now,” Dutch tutted, opening up the tent flap, even more, to look in, “let’s give Arthur some room to breathe. (Y/n) may want a moment to look after Arthur, after all.”

Charles and Lenny cleared from the tent, John, Abigal, and Miss Grimshaw right behind them. Hosea, Tilly, and Pearson were trying to peak over everyone’s shoulders, but now being pushed backwards by Dutch until he finally closed he flap. The hot sunlight now covered the two of you, giving you just a bit of privacy.

“Oh Arthur,” you murmured softly. You raised a shaky hand to cup his stubbled face, whimpering and sniffling at the thought of how much pain he must be in right about now. “What did this to you?”

Arthur felt cold beneath your hand, deathly cold, and yet, he was still breaking out in a sweat. His chapped lips parted, his head tilting to nuzzle into your palm, a soft moan escaping his lips until he seemed to still in his roll and unstiffening.

You pulled your hand away from his cheek, pulling away from Arthur to peek outside just in time to see Abigal holding a few spare rags and a bucket of water. Worry was plastered over her face, it was clear anxiety was bubbling inside of her.

“How is he? Did he wake?” she questioned as she handed you the bucket and rags.

“No,” you shook your head. You looked back at Arthur to see him as still and stiff as if he were dead. “What do you think did this?”

“I don’ know. What’s around here? John said it couldn’ be a wolf or coyote… You really think a bear got to him?”

“I don’ know what to believe.”

You entered your tent again, hauling the heavy bucket of water to Arthur and carefully sat down next to him. You carefully took a rag, dipped it in the cold water and dragged it across his skin, scrubbing the blood and dirt off of his skin, carefully cleaning his scratches. Your hands would smooth over his skin and stubble, nails scraping out what the water couldn’t get until his face was as clean as usual. You didn’t bother using the rag for his hair, only dipping your hands in the cold water and slowly combed your nails along his scalp, picking out clumps of dirt and blood from his sandy blond, untangling his hair, the water quickly soaking the torn collar of his favorite blue button up and the pillow below his head.

You sighed, linking your fingers with his stiff hand, you watched his chest slowly rise and fall, listening to his ragged breathing and soft groaning.

You slowly peeled off his blue button up, unbuttoning any buttons that got in the way before getting back to work on cleaning up his chest and stomach. Arthur was silent during most of the cleaning, but only when your fingers messed with the flesh around the loosely wrapped bandages did he hiss in pain, gritting and baring his teeth as his hands snatched up bunches of the fur roll beneath him.

You drew the rag away from him in shock, eyebrows throwing up as you whimpered at him in worry, watching as he quickly calmed down and let go of the fur roll.

You eyed the bloody bandages, biting your lip in worry before looking back at his clammy face.

* * *

“How is he doing?” Hosea questioned as he eyed you out of the corner of his eye.

“He’s all cleaned up,” you sighed, dumping the dirty water behind a tree and stuffing the rags on the bottom, “the bite mark is still sensitive.”

“Well, we’ll just get Miss Grimshaw on that, see what she can do.” You nodded, eyeing the tent nervously. “Go back to him. He needs you.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. You quickly ran off to the tent and throwing open the flap to see Arthur’s eyes slowly open and flutter closed as he groaned in pain. “Arthur, you’re awake!” you gasped.

“Feels like I got dragged by a horse on the railways,” he groaned, pressing his palms to his eyes and rubbing his face, wincing when he tugged on his wounds. “What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember?” Arthur shook his head, eyeing you as he stayed still on the roll. “Charles went out to find you when you didn’ come back to camp last night. Others figured you were drinking alone, but you-”

“I never do that.”

“So Charles went out, found you in the middle of the field with your horse nudging you. You were still bleeding from the bite mark on your shoulder.” Arthur laid still, staring up at the roof of the tent with his sea foam gaze, as if he was starting to remember. “Arthur, do you remember what came after you? A wolf? Coyote? A bear?”

“That was no bear,” Arthur murmured.

“What?”

“It wasn’ a bear,” he stated as he heaved himself to sit up straight. He groaned, clawing at his hair and face. “That thing was a monster.”

“Arthur, what was it?”

“It was big, fur as black as night, and…” he seemed to stare off into the distance despite the tent’s cloth blocking his vision, “and these eyes. Yellow, but-but they glew in the night.”

“Arthur,” you calmly whispered as you placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away, his eyes wide as the back of his hand cracked yours away. He started panting, shaking, sweating even more. He was looking at you as if you were that beast, scared to shit. “Arthur,” you whimpered, obviously hurt from his denial.

“’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his shaky hands coming up to cup your face and squeeze your cheeks and trace your cheekbones. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

You nodded in his hold, but pulled away.

“I should get Dutch, tell him you’re up,” you mumbled.

You didn’t stop to look at him, simply exiting your tent without another word to find the gang leader that so graciously took you in, only to bump into him when you weren’t paying attention.

“(Y/n)!” he smiled, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Tell me, how’s Arthur doin’?”

* * *

It was getting late, you knew you would have to return to your tent pretty soon, but you couldn’t bear to see Arthur the way he was. He looked as though he belonged in one of those mental hospitals. All you heard from your tent all day were his mumblings and ramblings and worrying moans and occasional vomiting.

With the sun setting behind you and moon fat and full slowly climbing into the starry sky, you slowly entered the tent only to gasp, nearly dropping the bowl of soup you had prepared for him.

Arthur was bent at the knee, hunched over on the floor, his large hands clutching his hair and clawing at his scalp as he moaned and groaned in pain of the floor.

“Arthur!” you cried out, placing the bowl of soup down and rushed to his side. Your hands pressed into his back, fingers attempting to rub out the knots and tight spots in his shoulders, palms kneading his newly donned black button up. “Let me see. Did you hit your head? Are you sick?”

“Get back,” he wheezed, sounding as if he had bile still clinging to his lips.

“Arthur, please, tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you, darling.”

You quickly found yourself lying on your back, your skull throbbing and stomach hurting from where Arthur’s hand had forced you back.

“Get back!” he coughed, clawing at the ground. “Get away from me!”

You gasped, clasping a hand over your mouth as you saw Arthur’s eyes, no longer those beautiful dark forest green hues, but now a nauseous shade of bright green that burned your eyes just by looking at them. Those weren’t the eyes of your Arthur, but the eyes of a monster living in his skin.

Arthur lurched forward, pressing his forehead to the floor of the tent and groaned loudly, nails clawing and tearing thin lines into the cotton floor as his legs kicked out from under him, the toes of his boots scraping and scratching against the floor.

You were frozen in place, watching silently and helplessly as Arthur shifted, twitched, twisted, and transformed right in front of your eyes. His body seemed to have swelled with muscle slowly, skin bursting and peeling, the seams of his shirt and pants looking woefully stretched before, one by one, they each started to pop and snap out of place, revealing dark sandy blond hair growing all over his shedding body in thick clumps of strands. He gagged, choked, spat and coughed up more stomach bile, silently screaming and throwing his head back, allowing silent and soft howls of pain to escape his lips as his face started to contort. His head lowered back down, below his shoulders as they cracked like whips in the thin air, snapping out of their sockets and rising in his skin, his spine following not too long after. You could see his ears slowly come to furry points, rising along the sides of his head until it looked as though he was wearing a wolf’s head over his own.

The silence was broken by a series of sharp, bone-chilling cracks in his legs, his boots basically eploding off of his feet to show his feet practically growing into those of a dog’s but much mightier, his nails curling up into sharp black claws as the heels of his feet slowly grew farther away from his toes.

What drew attention to your tent now was the loud snarl leaving Arthur’s lips, your lover turning to face you, revealing his dog-like face to you. He was still covered in his clothes, most of the buttons having popped open to reveal his furry chest, his pants barely hanging on by his woefully stretched belt, his pants tight against his thick legs, seams loose yet tight against the fur and muscle that made up his body.

He looked to be a wolf that was trying to be a man… A monster, straight out of the books.

“Arthur?” you whimpered, hoping your lover was still in there somewhere.

The monster before you snarled, baring its rows of sharp white fangs at you, its eyes only glowing brighter like a burning cigarette. Saliva dripped from his lips as his claws scraped and scratched at the floor of the tent, tearing the cotton like how he could tear your skin apart at any moment.

The sound of commotion kicked up outside your tent, people calling for both you and Arthur from outside, but none having the courage to open up the tent’s flap to look in until Dutch pulled back the flap suddenly, quickly reeling away and shouting for everyone to flee.

Arthur looked over your shoulder ot the woods near camp, his ears perking up and his lips closing over his fangs. He suddenly growled, then lunged, claws barely missing your shoulder as you screamed and tried to duck out of the way from his large mass.

You turned over onto your stomach and watched as Arthur ran on his hind legs, jumping effortlessly over the tents on the edge of camp before disappearing into the night.

In all of the chaos that spread throughout the camp, a lone howl rang out, silencing everyone before they turned to you.

“What in God’s name was that thing?” Dutch murmured.

“Arthur,” you whispered, your eyes now on the full moon looming above you all.


	4. Blood & Scales: Van Helsing!McCree x Mermaid!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Violence, angst, blood.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Not Human - elegant slims

You knew what he was, and yet, you still stayed with him. You knew the risks, what could happen if he ever found out your secret you were bound to take to the grave if it were possible. There would be times he would nearly find out, his eyes just barely missing glimpses of the scales flaking around your ankles, you barely being able to keep the flakes of human skin out of his sight whenever you would start to shed from lack of moisture, tugging either your dress skirt down to cover your webbed toes or lay a blanket over your legs to hide the morphing skin or quickly yank on a pair of trousers before Jesse could catch a small glimpse of the shiny scales that lined your legs whenever sea water would soak your fake human skin.

He also never really questioning why you would prefer to stay on land than the water, only shrugging it off and diving head first alone as you watched anxiously from the land you stood on, retreating from any waves that would attempt to kiss your feet and reveal your secret to the man you loved and the man you feared at the same time. Jesse would never bother you, never badger you or force you to answer him or any of his questions. In fact, he would argue with anyone who tried you, firing question after question at you like silver bullets being fired from Jesse’s gun. Whenever threats wouldn’t keep the townsfolk and hunters away, his fists surely would do the trick, metal knuckles cracking against their jaws, knocking them out as they collapsed helplessly to the ground.

You admired that about Jesse. He would always stick up for the little people most of all. You loved how he always treated you more than property, always showing you the brighter sides of things that were usually doused in unholy and unforgiving fears and hatred and sorrow. He always seemed to shine a light in the dark cave you often found yourself trapped in mentally. You loved how he treated you as if you were a princess, a queen, showering you with love and affection and gifts and flowers and clothes and… everything. He gave you everything, treated you like the very god he would kneel to and pray until his knees were a bloody mess.

But if he were to ever find out about your secret… If he were to ever find out about your secret… You would sure go from being treated like a queen to being treated like the worse prisoner to rot underneath the castle, in the deepest, darkest corner of the dungeon, locked away forever and to always be tormented for what you are.

It was late, it was dark outside. You and Jesse were held up in a small abandoned cottage just off a small path in the middle of the woods. It must have been a hunter’s cottage as it was stocked to the brim with arrows and spare bows, small knives and baskets and buckets full of meat that was still good. Whoever lived here must not have left too long ago… The cottage was not too far off from the ocean, you could faintly hear the waves crashing on the jutting stones and seagulls bellowing out their cries, you could smell the salt and sand wafting around your nose, tempting you, teasing you, whispering sweet nothings in your ears.

How bad could it be to sneak out of the cottage, run down to the shore and take a quick dip in the water? Jesse was snoring away beside you, the man was surely knocked out cold for the rest of the night unless something bad were to have happened. You were sure you could sneak away, just for an hour. A quick dip, let it all out, peel it all off and then replace yourself next to Jesse and still manage to get a few hours of sleep before you two had to move again.

Your legs were itching, scales just beneath your skin waiting to burst out and free themselves, begging to brush against the salty water. Your toe flexed, curling with anticipation, you could just feel the webs starting to morph between your toes just thinking about how cool the ocean would feel against your skin.

You looked over at Jesse who was snoring beside you, his face smushed on the bed, drool slowly slipping from the corner of his mouth onto the deer hide. His hair clung to his face with sticky sweat, his long dark locks brushed out in a fan behind him, otherwise, it was sticking up in a wild mess. He barely moved a muscle when you scooted away from him, his fingers twitching and flexing before snagging at the hide and bunching it up in his hands.

A soft moan left his parted lips when you moved once more, your eyes widening when Jesse’s face contorted in confusion, but his eyes still remained closed, heaving his body over so his back was now to you. You sighed in relief, now able to finally scoot out of bed freely and gain your balance on the wooden floorboards beneath your feet.

Your heart was pounding in your throat as you quickly rushed outside, nearly startling your horse that was still grazing on the damp grass. He snorted when you ignored him, tail flicking and paying no attention to you when you raced past him, your bare feet digging into the moist soil and pushing you forward, closer to the sea. Dodging fallen trees and trunks still embedded in the ground, it didn’t take long for you to break through the line of trees that ended the forest and for your bare feet to meet the somehow still warm sand.

Your eyes quickly scanned over the stretch of beach, not noticing anyone, you were free to do as you pleased. You stripped off your dress and panties, tossing them carelessly into the breeze, the wind throwing the fabrics around wildly before they collided with the sand floor, leaving you only in your old brassiere.

You bounded towards the water, your legs never pushing so much in your life until you climbed over a small rock that hovered over the ocean, diving head-first into the icy cold water. You could feel the skin of your legs start to peel away from the scales lying just beneath the surface, the seam between your legs quickly sealing closed as your feet painlessly gave way, webs between your lengthening toes soon formed into a fin the further you swam downwards into the ocean.

Your fingers grazed the sand, the moonlight shining brightly above you, illuminating the water, highlighting all of the coral and seaweed and fish still swimming around, the eels slithering in the grass and the ocean soon coming alive as you swam by effortlessly. Your webbed fingers dug through the water, your long nails cutting through the waves, pushing you further along the invisible path the ocean shore had set for you.

Despite being underwater, you could still spy something off in the distance, something large and something looming. It was massive, torches lit most of the figure, giving way for a ship the size that showed it belonged either to the royal fleet or an intruder. The dark mass and sails above on cast shadows in the waters you were now floating in, your lips slightly parting in worry as the fish around you seemed to scatter and vanish back into their little holes.

You swam away from the massive ship, preferring to stay in the moonlight bathing the waters with her crisp white glow. Your nails scratched the sand, digging through dirt and rocks only to stop when your nails connected with something hard. You brushed away sand, pushing back your hair as it seemed to flow in the water like hot air and steam, pulling out a large oyster the size of your hand, its shell cracked and its form now lifeless. You spotted shards of glass embedded in its hard shell, a frown tugging at your lips. Your nails dug into the oyster’s lips, carefully prying open the shells until they gave way, revealing three large pearls, shining beautifully in the moonlit waters.

Your eyes widened, quickly stashing the pearls in your brasseire and leaving behind the oyster’s corpse as you swam upwards until you breached the surface.

Your eyes widened as you looked around, noticing how the shore was now so far away and the ship was gone, the moon much further away from where she once sat what felt not too long ago.

“Fuck,” you whispered before diving back under the water’s surface.

Your fin swayed, glittering in water as your claws cut through in such a hurry until you finally broke the surface by a series of rocks on the shore. Your nails bit into the stone, hauling yourself up onto the cold stone and looking back at your fin, smiling at how beautiful the moon made it out to be, so shiny and pretty like the pearls you just plucked.

You pushed back your wet hair from your face, wringing out all of the water until your wet locks were snatched up by a greedy, harsh hand. A shrill shriek left your lips as you found yourself being dragged off of the rock, onto the sand by your hair, landing on your back and looking up to see two men towering above you.

“Look at what the ocean drew in,” one sneered.

“How much do you think we’ll get bringing a mermaid to market?” the man that was holding you by your hair questioned.

His other grimy hand stroked your cheek harshly with the rough pad of his thumb, you gagged at the smell of his skin and turned away as bile threatened to bubble on your lips.

The men took offense, scoffing before you felt a sharp sting on your cheek, your head suddenly jerked to the side. A soft sob left your lips as your tail flopped around on the sand, kicking up sand and dirt on instinct and getting it into their eyes as your nails dug into the man’s hands around your hair, drawing blood.

The two men spat, cursed as you turned and tried to crawl away, trying to stall long enough until your tail was dry enough to peel away and toss into the ocean so you could run back to Jesse. You barely made it anywhere before two rough hands snatched your fin, yanking you back and popping the bones, some crunching as you wailed in pain. Their nails dug into the scales of your tail, some ripping out as he clawed at you to stay still while the other only rammed a fist into your face to shut you up.

“Please,” you cried, fists filling with sand, “mercy.”

One grabbed you by your hair again, lifting your sore head up so you could look him in the eye. Your stomach dropped, feeling heavy.

“Monsters don’t get mercy,” he sneered.

He threw your head back into the sand and proceeded to kick you straight in the ribs, blood flying from your mouth with a harsh cough. WWhite, seering hot pain erupted all over your body as the two men clawed, slapped, punched, scratched and beat you until you were a shaking, sniveling mess that couldn’t even get out a simple sob.

You thought of Jesse, his warm smile and faithful, loyal promises. You thought of how he taught you how to shoot a gun, how to survive small encounters, how to be loved like you deserved… You needed him, you wanted him to take you away from all of this, take care of you, give you a normal life.

But as you laid there, you only felt a looming sense of dread creeping over you, like the shadow of the ship not too long ago until all of the pain suddenly stopped with two sharp bangs.

“Darlin’! Is that you?” you heard someone drawl out. Your eyes slowly opened, you were barely able to turn your head just enough to see him look down at your scaled tail, tears welling in your eyes as Jesse only dropped his gun where he stood. “Darlin’, what..?” You expected him to leave you to die, for lying to him, not telling the truth, but you were wrong when he bent down over you to get a better look at you.

“Jesse,” you whimpered, your nails clawing at the sand.

“Darlin’ I gotta get you back to town, I-I gotta get you somewhere!” Jesse babbled as he clawed at your body, trying to get a hold on you without touching the welts and bruises now forming over your skin.

“Jesse,” you groaned, looking at him in the eyes.

“Darlin’, hush now, I got you, I ain’t gon’ let anythin-”

“Water,” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Water, what?” you felt Jesse shift, his fingers stopping for a second on your skin.

You heard Jesse suddenly gasp, his hands clawing at your skin once more until you were hoisted in his arms, you could feel him stumbling quickly along the sand, nearly tripping when his boots hit water, but it didn’t stop him from hobbling through the water under he was waist deep. Slowly, he dipped you back into the cold ocean, your body floating from his grip. You watched through a half-lidded gaze from under the water as Jesse whispered prayers under his breath, watching you with worried eyes and tears slowly running down his tanned cheeks, his lips quaking and words shaking.

You felt your wounds closing, blood stopping and patches where scales had been ripped out now healed over with pale flesh. Your fin carefully mended shut, your bruised fingers reaching up to claw at his white button-up shirt desperately as you carefully lifted your head from the water surface.

Salt still bit at your small cuts and split lip and bruised eye, but you could make out Jesse perfectly.

“Why?” you murmured.

“Why what, darlin’?” he let out a shaky, soft laugh before sniffling.

“Why save me? You know what I am.”

“And I know who ya are, darlin’,” he hummed, a soft smile threatening to turn into a frown spread across his face. “I don’ kill the innocent ones. Yer too good for this world, puddin’. I wouldn’ dare lay a finger on you,” he promised as he pulled away a lock of hair that was matted to your forehead by ocean water. “I love you.”


	5. Monsters Don’t Get Love: Reaper x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Sad (but there’s a happy ending)!
> 
> Song Recommendation: Rain to Snow - Alee Kinder

The light hit your eyes before the headaches did. You didn’t dare open your eyes at first, but the looming sense of sorrow in your stomach only buddied up with the rumbling of hunger had forced you to open your eyes.  The pale, crusty yellow sun filtered through the window panes in thick rays, showing off the dust that had gathered in your house for some time now, the rays not hitting your face but at the foot of the bed. Your fingers wrapped around the quilt, thin and old, the cotton stuffed inside now flat and barely padding comfort to you anymore, but… you kept it on the bed like how you kept the left side of the bed empty for the past ten years.

Slowly, you started to feel the emptiness in the room, how cold it truly was to lay on the old mattress in the same old house on the same old road. The cold shot right through you, shocking your nerves into sitting up, allowing the quilt to fall off your person, bunching up at your stomach and thighs. Your arms crossed over each other, as you looked out the window, your legs never leaving the bed to hang off of the side.

Snow bunched up on the bottom of the window, frost curled on the edges of each pane as wind rattled them in their slots. They were yellowed from age, needing to be changed, some were even starting to crack from the last hail storm. The large glass-paned doors before you only gave you glimpses to the large clay pots still stuffed with good soil and fertilizer now overflowing with dead weeds and snow packed on top, reminding you of better times when they were full of beautiful golden marigolds and bright purple tulips so long ago. You longed to smell those flowers once more, you longed to see him bent over the pots, digging around in the soil and plucking out weeds while whispering sweet nothings to the flowers like he did to you. You would remember how he would always pluck one flower and lace it over the shell of your ear, smiling warmly.

But now, you felt as dead as the flowers ten years long gone.

You looked away from the doors to the end table, your eyes spotting a large glass lamp that was unplugged from the wall socket, your phone turned over so you wouldn’t see the lock screen, the turned over empty bottles of alcohol and thick orange tubes, some pills spilled around the surface of the end table. Your eyes closed, you winced as your temples pounded, the back of your head feeling as though you were being stabbed repeatedly. You whimpered, opening your eyes as a single tear dragged down the curved surface of your cheek, only to soak into the old, dingy thin pillow.

You turned your body towards the locked doors (to which you don’t even remember where the keys were as you had locked it upon hearing about him), your legs dragged the quilt over to spill at your dangling feet, your back hunching, elbows digging into your knees as you stared off into the far distance, past the doors.

Little did you know about what lurked in your closet, nor the small wisps of black smoke murmuring and moving around the flanks of the wooden closet doors.

* * *

**Reaper’s P.O.V.**

* * *

He watched you carefully between the hangers stuffed with clothes that mainly belonged to him. Suits, jackets, boxes of boots and sneakers that went unused even though he promised he would wear them (and yet he only stuck to the usual work boots he wore even if they were falling apart as he walked), and a few tuxedos and a spare Blackwatch uniform complete with armor. He had snuck in not too long ago, but just before the sun had peaked out over the horizon, locating the old key under the fake rock in the back garden (that was a complete disaster, rambled with dead flowers and overgrown tree roots), and sneaking inside with the intent to finally give you peace and to finally say goodbye forever…

You didn’t need him. He didn’t deserve you.

You didn’t need a monster in your life…

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be crammed into the closet, he shouldn’t be hunched over to look through the wooden flanks just to see you sitting hunched over, looking out the window. He could smell the alcohol, he could see the pills spilled everywhere, he could feel the aches your body was being put through. He hated that you were suffering, he hated himself for putting you through such a thing. He was mad at you for still waiting for him to come home as if it were just another day.

The air was choking him, tension thick and heavy, weighing down his shoulders and making his knees wobble and making his stomach twist in knots.

It was a big punch in the gut to see that the left side of the bed was empty. The pillows undisturbed, and sheets underneath the quilt pulled tight over the corners of the mattress. You kept everything the same, everything that he did, you kept it the same.

His mask silencing his heavy breathing, his clawed gloves making gentle scratches on the closet door as his fingers twitched, wanting to so desperately to rub your shoulders and hold your hands and… love you.

Oh, how the golden marigold in his pocket felt like a ton of bricks, the paper envelope feeling as though it was poison simply slapped onto his skin, eating away at his insides.

He watched you sit there, doing nothing but stare out the window as if it were the answer to all of life’s questions, as if it were a complex math equation you were trying to figure out without writing down anything. You didn’t move, didn’t flinch, sniffle, whimper, murmur, speak, hum… You did nothing.

You didn’t even flinch when your phone started to blare out the loudest alarm he had ever heard, you most likely picked it to wake you up from your drunken, drug-induced sleep from last night. It seemed like you weren’t even inhabiting your own body, it took you so long to even snap out of your trance to look at your phone blaring on the end table.

He watched as you slowly extended an arm, shaking fingers lifting your phone up and quickly turning the alarm off before just tossing it onto the bed carelessly and standing up. He heard the series of pops and cracks from your back, wincing as you only stumbled away from the bed and caught yourself on the wall when you nearly fell. He heard you heave, watched as tears fell from your cheeks and hit the dusty hardwood floors as you stayed stuck to the wall, shaking as if you were a leaf in a hurricane.

He did this to you… He ruined you… He turned the light of his life, his beautiful marigold in a field of boring daisies, to a drunken mess that couldn’t walk five steps without breaking down.

Eventually, you hauled yourself up to stand up straight and slowly started to walk across the room and into the hallway, the floors creaking with every step you took. He waited until he heard the stairs to start to crack and settle like they always have done to slowly open the closet door and sneak out. He chuckled emotionlessly as he remembered he always would promise you he would rip up the flooring and fix the creaking problems after he woke you up too many times in the middle of the night by trying to sneak into bed.

He followed behind you, being careful to duck away from any corner, moving around in the shadows of your home until he heard the bathroom door shut and the shower turn off.

He carefully pulled out the paper envelope and walked up to the kitchen table, noting all of the bills stacked up in large piles (some were really checks on his death to you), some papers opened, addressing you for certain items like a recall on your car, a letter of warning that construction would be happening soon down the road, amongst other items. But what really tore at his insides was the photograph frame sitting where you normally sat at the table. Ornate brass coils framing a thick brass oval, encircling a black and white photo of the two of you before everything happened. He was actually wearing something other than his Blackwatch uniform which a rarity of its own, instead, a tight black sweater now, but his beanie still sat on his shaven head. His smile haunted him, the warm in his eyes genuine, his love for you showing as you were pressed to his side, smiling brightly at the camera.

“Oh, (Y/n),” he grumbled.

He placed the envelope down on the table only for his clawed gloves to gently pick up the picture frame, the tips of the metal claws rolling over the ornate curls and coils as he now stared at your face.

He wished he could see you smile like this one more time before he truly said goodbye.

He placed the photo down and reached into his pocket to slide out the marigold, all of its golden petals still in place as he gently laid the flower down in front of the envelope, his eyes tracing over your name he carefully wrote down. You always loved it when he wrote your name in calligraphy, the curls of the black ink dancing on the papers always caught your attention.

The shower hadn’t stopped, he could still hear the water running away, pattering on the bathtub’s porcelain floor. You wouldn’t hear him leave through the back door, walk out forever over the shower…

But something kept him from leaving, tethering him to the insides of the house he too once called home. He looked away from the back door, back into the kitchen and to the living room not too far away, through the archway.

The kitchen looked the same. Same tiles below his feet, same stains neither of you could scrub out between the grooves, same appliances surprisingly (you may have just replaced them with the same things). The paint on the walls was still the same shade, but now it was chipping away, needing a new coat. Dishes were piled up in the sink, waiting to be cleaned. The walls were littered with photos of the two of you still together. Most of them when you two were on vacation, or really just him taking you places that required undercover surveillance, you acting as the perfect coverup.

He took long strides into the living room, his boots scuffing against the hardwood planks, squeaking a bit. His eyes scanned the walls, following the new wallpaper you must have had put up as the walls were no longer painted a pretty ashen gray, now covered in flowery paper. The photos were still hung up in the same places, small statues still sat on top of the same fireplace mantle. The same sofa sitting in front of the same flatscreen tv, his recliner sitting next to your overstuffed armchair, overlooking the large windows that had the white curtains drawn shut. His recliner looked to have not been sat in for so long, your armchair acting the same way as the cotton inside both had puffed up from not being used.

Something caught his eye, something on the large table that certainly was not there when he still lived here. Pictures thrown about on the wooden surface of his face, lists of contact information as stickers, maps of where the old Overwatch base used to be, amongst other things. They were missing posters, you still never gave up on him.

You still thought he was alive, out there somewhere.

You still cared about him.

“How could you care about a monster?” he found himself murmuring, his dark eyes leaning over to catch a glimpse of your bright smile and warm eyes. “I don’t deserve you.”

Gabriel wandered over to his recliner and slowly sat down, not caring for the dust staining the leather of his trenchcoat. A soft groan left his lips as his body was quickly encased in the overstuffed recliner as he leaned back into the comfortable fabric. His clawed gloves scratched at the armrests of the recliner, his fingers twitching, wanting to reach down and pull the lever to recline back like he used to always do with you by his side. He always loved how you two would always sit here late at night, watch the village not too far down the hill slowly die out and the sunrise and watch the same village come back to life.

He loved doing this with you.

He was deep in thought, so deep he didn’t hear the shower stop nor the door opening or your soft gasp.

“Who are you?” your voice shot right through him.

He stood up quickly, the recliner rocking back and forth behind him as he quickly turned to you. He watched you recoil, take a step back only to have tears stream down your cheeks, your eyes widening and jaw unhinging. 

You were dressed in a towel, your hair clinging to your neck in wet strands, matting to your face. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips were swollen, the dark bags under your eyes seemed darker than when he saw you still in bed.

“Gabriel?” you whimpered. He stayed silent, not knowing what to do. What could he do? Walk out? Not come back? “Gabriel, is that you?”

“(Y/n),” he murmured.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you sobbed, rushing forward and lunging for him, encapturing him in your arms.

You sobbed into his chest, and all he did was stand there and stroke your shaking back, stuck in his thoughts of how you could simply sob into this monster’s chest, holding him just as tightly as you did ten years ago.

He didn’t deserve you.

He didn’t deserve love.


	6. A Lesson To Be Careful: OTP4 +1 Chocobros x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Kinks: BDSM, Anal, Power play, Biting, Spanking, Sub/Dom, Hair pulling, Oral, Blowjob.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Lovely - Billie Eilish

_Your back pressed against the marble flooring, head pound, eyes burning with tears and teeth grit while you writhed beneath the heavy foot pressing against your chest. You looked up at the MT, a hiss escaping from the back of your throat as you looked up into its hollow red eyes. The MT only pressed the tip of the blade harder into the skin of your chin. You winced when a small shot of pain cut through you, you soon felt something warm starting to slowly drip down your throat. Blood roared in your ears, your pounding temples made it hard for you to pay attention to the chaos springing around you._

_The pressure on your chest tightened, a soft cry escaping your lips and your head tilting back in pain._

_“(Y/n)!” you heard someone calling you._

_Your sagging eyelids pulled up just a bit, your eyes scanning the horizon only to have the pressure on your chest suddenly stop just as your body gave way._

* * *

“It is truly is a good thing you only came out of that with just some scrapes and bruises, love,” Ignis tutted as he closed the door behind you.

“Gladio, I have legs,” you sighed, glaring at the man that held you tightly in his arms, acting oblivious to the fact that he was actually doing it, “I can walk on my own.”

“Mmm,” Gladio hummed, thinking, “no.”

“Gladio!” you huffed, pinching the top of his ear. He flinched and huffed himself. “Put me down, it’s just a few bruises.”

Gladio sighed, taking a few more long strides until you were both inside of the massive bedroom with the three right behind you. Gladio slowly placed you on your feet on the ground, only to be brought back to his rock hard chest, his hands kneading at your waist and hips, leaning over to nip at your earlobe.

“Maybe we should teach you a lesson on how to be careful,” he growled in your ear.

“Perhaps we should,” Ignis tutted, eyeing you as he slipped his jacket off of his lean shoulders.

Gladio moved your hair away from your neck, his lips pressing against your soft flesh as his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your pants. Ignis circled around in front of you and cupped your chin, tilting your head up as to capture your lips in his. You felt Noctis lace his fingers in your right hand,  pressing kisses to the side of your head and down the length of your jaw. You felt Prompto take your left hand, lace his fingers with yours and press kisses to your knuckles, kissing up and down the expanse of your arm, taking extra time on the small bruises that stained your skin.

Gladio spun you around, but your lips still clung to Ignis’, his cold hands brushing against your cheekbones. Noctis and Prompto let go of your hands, your chest ached as you wanted them, fingers flexing as a soft whine left your lips.

Gladio’s hands flew to your button up shirt, yanking at the seams and popping off the buttons in one hard tug and flying off in different directions, his large calloused hands going to your bra to pluck at the strands, snapping them against your skin. Noctis, now behind you, tailed his nimble fingertips over the waistband of your pants, nails digging into the band and running along the rim until his fingers were fumbling with the button and zipper, quickly revealing your panties. Prompto nuzzled into your neck, licking and kissing and mouthing soft promises along your bare throat, his soft and warm hands trailing along the under curves of your breasts and trailing down your stomach, nails tracing invisible patterns into your heated flesh.

You felt Noctis struggle with the clasp of your bra behind you, his finger frantic as you could feel him start to heat up. He cursed softly, pressed hard kisses into the back of your shoulder until your breasts were finally freed from their cloth prison. Gladio ripped the loosened bra off of your figure with your ruined shirt in tow before he attacked your throat and jaw, placing hungry kisses on your skin.

Your hands fumbled, one hand quickly threading into Noctis’ locks, scratching his scalp as your other hand was cupped by Ignis’, his lengthy fingers tangling with yours. Gladio’s roughened hands stroked at your breasts, thumbs and index fingers pinching and scratching at your nipples. Noctis’ hands running along your spine to the curve of your ass, grabbing handfuls of the soft flesh and plucking at your panties. Prompto’s hand danced down your stomach, finally settling on your panties, hitching a notch into the soft fabric and tugging gently. The friction of the fabric pulling on your dripping clit made you moan, tilting your head back.

Gladio’s hands left your breasts, nipples now aching from the torment, his lips leaving the underside of your jaw. The telltale sound of jingling and a crack of leather had the other three quickly release you.

Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Gladio with his leather belt in his hands, his leather pants sagging slightly on his waist, his clothed erection obvious as ever. You heard the others shuffling, belts jingling and hitting the floor behind you.

Gladio advanced towards you, one hand leaving the belt and grabbing a hold of your shoulder and forcefully turning you around. He grabbed a hold of both of your wrists, looping the leather belt around your soft skin and yanking on it tightly, pressure enclosing and binding your wrists until Gladio’s hold lets up.

You now saw the other three mostly naked, kicking their clothes out of the way while pulling their underwear off, revealing their penises to you. Their faces were flushed, hair a complete mess, Ignis’ glasses now missing from his structured face. They each eyed each other, then to you, then the bed before quickly moving.

Noctis laid down along the foot of the bed, Ignis advanced towards you, relieving you from Gladio’s strong grip only to be snared in his firm and unforgiving grip. You could hear Gladio quickly yanking off his clothes, tossing his jacket and tank top and loose pants and hiking boots somewhere behind him carelessly. Ignis had one hand wrapped around the leather belt, his other hand fisting your hair and firmly tugging your head back just a bit. Prompto simply stood there, you could see the debate in his eyes whether he should do something or touch his erect cock.

Ignis nosed your throat, the bulb of his nose rolling over the splotches kissing your skin, they were still raw and tender, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

You could feel your panties were soaked, your knees wobbling as a coil tightened in your belly. You whimpered once more, when Prompto finally moved forward, his fingers knotting into your panties and yanking them down, making a soft wet splat when they hit the floor.

Suddenly, your head was jerked back roughly by another hand, a moan snapping out of you as tears were brought to your eyes. Ignis moved aside when the leather belt was snatched up from his grip, Gladio’s body heat pressing firmly behind you as you felt his erect cock press against your asscheeks. He drew your head back until your crown was pressed into his collarbones, he lowered his head to your ear and nosed around its shell, nipping at your earlobe.

“You know the safe word, right?” he growled into your ear.

You nodded, whimpering when you felt your hair pull against your scalp before Gladio pushed you forward towards the bed.

Noctis lowered himself from his elbows when your knees hit the edge of the bed, your body buckling when Gladio hoisted you up. Noctis’ clammy hands felt amazing on your heated skin, his cold nails digging into the meat of your shoulders and angling your body until you were hovering just above him, the perfect height for Gladio behind you.

Ignis slowly came around to the other side of the bed, his knees on either side of Noctis’ head, Prompto next to you his fingers dancing alon the curve of your back.

You felt Noctis first, the head of his cock tapping at your passageway, pushing past your soaked nether lips and quickly pushing up. You winced at the pressure, crying out softly when his cock finally entered you. Slowly, Noctis started to pump his hips, being careful with you above him.

But it was agonizing, he was moving so slow inside of you, it made you whine. You wished your hands were bound behind your back, your fingers flexed and ached, wanting to clawing at the sheets on the bed and scratch at Noctis’ shoulders.

But Noctis kept you still, slowly guiding you along his shaft slowly and carefully.

Gladio was next. He let go of your hair but kept a tight grip on the leather belt wrapped around your wrists. You felt his erection glide along your asscheeks, his head slowly pushing past your ass to stop at the pucker of your hole. His free hand came down to your ass, pulling at one of the cheeks far enough to help him slide into you as easily as he could.

You cried out, throwing your head back and sobbing softly at the stretch in your ass. Sweat shined, blanketing you in a moist layer.

You felt so full with the two of them inside of you, their cocks slowly starting to move up a pace, their hands guiding you along the lengths of their cocks, whimpers leaving you and you looked up from Noctis to see Ignis waiting patiently for you to open your mouth, his nimble fingers dancing up and down his cock. You jaw slowly unhinged, Ignis moving forward until the tip of his cock pressed against your lips, pushed past your teeth and now housed itself in the warm, moist confines of your mouth and throat. He too started out slow, a steady pace as he rocked his hips back and forth, both hands coming up to your scalp and gently massaging the raw skin and combing through your beautiful locks.

Tears filled your eyes as a guttural moan failed to slip past the penis caged in your mouth. Your scalp burned in a good way, your body was starting to shiver, a tightness coiled up in your belly the more the three cocks pumped into you. Your shoulders rolled backwards, the sweat making your wrists slip and roll around in their leather bindings until one wrist managed to slip free, only to land on Prompto’s flat stomach and work its way down to his erect cock where your fingers pumped quickly, not even starting out slow.

The four men were a flurry of moans, heads thrown back as their nails clawed at you, making crescent moons in your skin and scratching down your soft, hot flesh.

Your head rolled back, a whine bubbling from your lips before the tightness coiling up in your belly became too much and you cried out loudly, your orgasm rocking your body and making you see stars. And yet, they still ravaged you and your grip on Prompto only tightened, the blond whining at the added pressure, his nails biting your skin harder.

Time seemed to have escaped you all, your mind now numb as they worked you out, wringing and milking as much as they could, working out orgasm after orgasm until one by one they finally came. First Prompto, his hot seed splatting you in the face and dripping down onto Noctis who only groaned, his cock shuddering inside of you before you soon found yourself having your insides coated in his cum. Ignis moaned softly, his fingers knotting tightly in your hair, gently and firmly pulling at the strands until your mouth was finally filled with his own seed, you couldn’t help but gag as you swallowed most of it, some of it dribbling out over your swollen lips and down your chin. Gladio was the last as usual when it came these sessions, but when his grip tightened on the belt still cuffing your one wrist, you cried out when he roared, fingers grabbing harshly at your abused asscheek as you felt his hot seed fill you.

The belt loosened around your wrist, slipping off and falling onto the floor with a loud clunk. Your body fell over, curling up next to Noctis as Gladio stumbled away from you just a bit. Ignis had let go of your hair and Prompto had quickly disappeared only to return with a soft towel for you.

Noctis rubbed his fingers over the red marks on your wrists, fingers running along the sharp cuts in your skin as your eyelids felt like iron bricks.

But before you could finally lull off to sleep, you could hear Ignis’ stern voice cut through the silence.

“Do you need us to repeat that lesson, kitten? Or will you be more careful next time?” he purred.

You thought for a minute, only to smirk as you nuzzled into the sheets.

“I may need another lesson later,” you murmured.


	7. Whose The Dog Now?: Bigby x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Kinks: Collaring, Leashes, Choking, Dom/Sub.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Get To Know You - Whitehill Grove

Your back slammed into the wall, a gasp escaping your lips as you tilted your head back, nursing the crown of your skull as it had slammed into the wall. His scratchy lips fell to your throat, the prickle of his beard scratching at the bared skin. A moan left you, your fingers digging into the thick chocolate locks of Bigby’s hair, nails biting into his scalp while you yanked the tresses, earning yourself a beastly growl from the man before you. You head rolled to the side, breathing quickly through your swollen lips as your eyelids tugged down.

His hands kept you still, kept you upright and standing when your knees wobbled and threatening to buck and give way. His fingers wrapped around your much smaller wrists, pressing you up against the wall, his groin digging into your waist. You could feel his erection through the stiff fabric of his pants, poking you.

You felt his teeth graze your skin, teeth much sharper than they were just a few moments ago. He nipped at your skin, threatening and teasing you, having you jolt and wriggle and squirm in his hold. He never bit down though, his teeth never sank into your skin, he never stained your flesh with anything more than just bruises and hickies, he never dared to break your beautiful skin. But you knew how much Bigby loved to tease you, how much he loved to rile you up, get that coil in your belly to wind up tight as if you were a walking toy.

His grip on your wrists tightened, a fierce snarl bubbling up against your throat as Bigby pressed his chest against you, digging his face even deeper into your neck, pressing his harsh lips to your sweet skin, licking and lapping at the sensitive skin, grazing his sharp fangs against you, dragging them along the columns of your neck. His nose pressed into your pulse, a soft whimper leaving his lips as his hips ground into you.

You yourself whimpered, feeling as your panties slowly dampened with your slick as pleasure bloomed in your chest, squeezing, making it hard for you to breathe properly.

“(Y/n),” Bigby murmured, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Oh, how it rang so beautifully in your ears, tugging at your heart and making a jolt of lust run through you. Your legs buckled, but with Bigby’s body pressed against you, you only pushed yourself closer to his erection, making the werewolf before you snarl viciously and clasp his jaws over the curve of your neck, but he did not bite down.

“Bigby,” you whimpered pitifully.

You ground your hips into his, fingers flexing and desperately wanting to claw into his hair and snatch his face so he would kiss your throbbing lips once more.

Your drenched panties bled through the thin fabric of your pants, and now was pressing into his clothed erection. The werewolf snarled before you, ripping his head away from your neck, his hands ripping away from your wrists to only have one catch your jaw and the other to snake into your hair, yanking your head back just a bit.

Through your half-lidded gaze, you found yourself entranced by the two golden eyes rimmed black before you, boring right into you, those pupils too small to be human. His face transformed, the fingers squeezing your jaw now tipped with long black claws, you could feel the claws scratch gently at the back of your scalp.

Your limp hands came up to card into the hair now grown on his cheeks and jaw, thumbs tracing along his sharp cheekbones, your eyes staring at those eyes that seemed to strip you down and show you your everything… Him.

Your face heated up, your eyes falling to the fangs poking up from his lower lip. You yanked on Bigby’s facial hair, tugging him forward, capturing his lips with yours. Bigby snarled, yanking on your hair to get you to whimper and moan.

He was successful.

Your arms felt heavy, like lead, hands slipping from his cheeks and jaw to his shoulders where they sat lazily looped around his broad shoulders, fingers grasping at the back of his dirty white button-up. His hand let go of your hair, instead, rolling down to the back of your neck to push you forward and deeper into the kiss. He snarled, growled and groaned into the kiss as he restrained from digging his sharp claws into your delicate skin.

It suddenly became too much for both of you.

You pulled at the buttons on your blouse, exposing as much of your chest and collarbones to him as his hands fell to your ass, hiking you up in the air and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your fingers fumbled to pull your blouse over your head, Bigby encouraging you as he trailed heated kisses from your belly and up your chest, fangs biting into your bra teasingly before you were finally able to pull the blouse off.

Bigby stumbled backwards, his feet fumbling and nearly tripping as he pushed his way back into the bedroom that was once never used (now being used for obvious reasons). Bigby threw you onto the bed, his clawed fingers ripping apart his old white button up, tearing it from his body, the tie slipping off and pooling to the hardwood floors. The shirt was old anyway, stained from cigarette ash and smoke from years of smoking. His pants, however, you sat up quickly, your fingers shaking as you pulled the button loose and undoing his leather belt, allowing both to hit the floor with a loud clunk.

Bigby didn’t allow you to peel away his boxers, instead, pushing you back against the bed and allowing his clawed fingers to roam your sensitive body. He pressed steaming kisses to your warm body, traveling along your chest, coming down to your navel. He was gently grazing and raking thin lines into your skin until his claws met the waistband of your pants, his clawed fingertips somehow managing to unbutton and pull the zipper down, carefully kissing down your thighs and calves until your pants were now pooled onto the floor. A moan escaped your lips, your hips bucking up as Bigby trailed scratchy kisses to your core. His nose brushed against your dripping slit, a primal growl erupting from his throat as his meaty hands squeezed your hips, claws slicing the waistband of your panties just barely before Bigby suddenly tore them in half, tossing them carelessly behind him.

“What are you going to do to me, sheriff?” you purred, toes curling as Bigby stood up to hover over you.

His clawed fingertips grazed the skin of your breasts, middle finger running along the crease between as looked you over with his haunting eyes. You could barely see his face from the shadows of the room. You could only make out points of his face, tanned skin lit up pink from the lights outside, bathing the bedroom in a dark, neon glow. His eyes though, those yellow eyes cut through the darkness without effort.

Your mind swam, your head feeling heavy and body feeling light the more you stared into his eyes.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he growled, standing up to cast shadows across your naked body.

“I want you to fuck me,  _sheriff_.  _Fuck me like the animal you are_.”

Bigby’s pupils shrank, his fangs bared, the glow in his eyes seemed to shine brighter. An even deeper growl came from the back of his throat, as 

Bigby lurched at you, fingers grasping your soft flesh and pressing you into the mattress. You cried out when his claws pricking your skin, barely breaking the surface as he turned you over effortlessly so the side of your head was pressed firmly into the sheets, your hands on either side of your head.

You suddenly heard rattling behind you, something unclasping until your hair was yanked and your head tugged back, exposing your throat to Bigby. You felt something hard yet cold wrap around your throat before tightening until it was just loose enough for you to breathe. Your hands flew to your neck, nails biting into a leather collar, a soft moan leaving you as it was tugged back firmly.

Your mind swam, thoughts turning to white static. One of Bigby’s knees pressed into your back, forcing you to lay back down against the bed. With the shadows looming over the headboard, you made out Bigby’s hulking body, more muscles pronounced, shoulders broader and hair messier. Bigby’s free hand reached down to snatch at his boxers, tearing the cotton and releasing his cock to the cold, stale air of the apartment. Bigby’s free hand slammed into the sheets next to your face, long ebony claws ripping into the sheets, strands of gray fur starting to grow across his tanned skin.

A part of you wondered if Bigby really would turn, fuck you raw like an actual animal, bite you, scratch at you, fuck you into the mattress until his cum was leaking out of your abused hole, his massive form hunched over you and his ragged breathing in your ear…

Just the thought of it made your core slicker, a soft moan muffled into the sheets as you grabbed fistfuls. You had seen that other form of his only a few times, you’ve only seen him out of control only once. You hoped he ravaged you, fucked you until you couldn’t walk properly for days…

Another forceful tug at the collar, you felt Bigby’s erection tap at your passage. A gasp left you, your hips bucking and legs stiffening. It was much bigger than usual. Your body quivered, the slow lack of oxygen making it hard for you to see properly in the dark room.

A strangled cry left your lips when you felt him enter, your walls clamping down on his thick cock, stretching over his sheer girth while his hips pumped his cock into your passageway. Bigby snarled behind you, growling and groaning, occasionally tugged on the collar before letting it slacken so you could breathe. The stretch in your clit only made you wince and whine, stomping the balls of your feet on the hardwood floors of the bedroom.

“Bigby,  **harder** ,  ** _faster_** ,” you groaned, wiggling your ass against his crotch seductively.

Bigby suddenly yanked harshly at the leash connected to your collar, yanking your head back. You choked, spit bubbling at the corner of your mouth as you wheezed, moaned and whined as Bigby pumped his cock in and out of you, his hips slapping into your ass. He would nearly slip his cock out of you only to slam right back into you at full force. Your legs went limp, feet lying against the floor, only moving with each harsh thrust. Your shoulders slackened, your face pressing into the sheets now coated in your sweat.

Moans were now pouring out of your open mouths, curses leaking off of your tongues, desperate whimpers and soft pleads from the both of you until your orgasm suddenly railed into you, your cry stirring Bigby on to yank tighter on the leash, the leather collar digging into the sensitive skin of your throat, your head lolling back, dizziness only heightening your peak of arousal, your body feeling as though it were boneless. Your orgasm hit you like a rock, your eyes rolling backwards, face digging into the sheets, and toes curling. Bigby only grunted, you could feel his mass behind you, fur and hair brushing up against your back, clinging with sweat as his cock continued to pump out of your hole, your walls clamping down tightly on him.

Bigby started to snarl like a wild animal, his knee on your back growing heavier and hairier while the collar only dug deeper into your throat before it loosened. You gasped for air, crying out as Bigby pumped and rocked his hips faster and harsher out of your abused clit.

Your eyes peered up to the shadows above the headboard, only to wince when Bigby’s knee on your back pressed down. He was a lumbering figure behind you, fully transformed and a snarling mess as he took you from behind. His hand beside your face finally let go of the destroyed sheets, they large furry appendage pressing into your shoulder, claws raking across your skin and finally tearing, if only slightly.

Bigby let go of the leash, the leather strap landing next to you, as he placed his hands on either side of your head, his own head bobbing down. You felt his furry chin brushed along your neck, his hot, slimy tongue rolling over your scratched shoulder, licking up any blood that may have beaded.

“Bigby,” you whimpered.

He snapped his jaws at you, saliva splattering against your back. He dug his nose into the side of your neck, tongue stroking your heated skin, licking up and down your neck, along your shoulders and between your shoulder blades until you suddenly felt him shudder inside of you.

“Bigby,” you whined, “are you-?”

Bigby snapped his jaws again, this time, closer to your skin. You felt his hot, ragged breaths against your skin, his chest heaving and his legs shaking too.

Warmth quickly filled you when Bigby suddenly lurched back and  _howled_ , his claws digging into the meat of your shoulders, a cry leaving you as Bigby rolled over onto his side, gathering you in his arms with his penis still inside of you.

Your back was against his furry chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your chest, his meaty hands in front of your face. You sighed when his large fingers grazed the marks on your neck, claws moving along the grooves and cuts in your skin.

“Are you okay?” you heard him grumble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured. You turned to look over your shoulder, smiling softly at his gray furry face slowly losing its fluff, you cocked a brow. “A little rough?”

“I’m sorry,” he moaned, pressing his nose into the back of your neck. “I’ll be softer next time.”

“I liked it, you know.”

Bigby’s pupils blew wide, tanned skin visible now. He snickered, his fangs slowly dulling.

“God, I love you.”


	8. Amber to Gold: Werewolf!Gladiolus x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Werewolf Transformation, blood, violence, fighting.
> 
> Song Choice: We Are Young - fun. ft. Janelle Monáe

_“What was one thing that attracted you to me?” he questioned._

_“Your eyes,” you smiled, looking down at your drink._

_Your cheeks flushed, your face warm. You don’t know why you were blushing, you’ve been dating Gladiolus for quite some time now. You shouldn’t be blushing at such a simple question._

_“Why my eyes?” he laughed. “Is there something about them that you love?”_

_“Actually,” you hummed, sipping from your sweating glass, eyeing him playfully, “yes.”_

_“Humor me.”_

_“I feel in love with them at first sight. I love them, their amber hue like straight out of the trees. But back then, I noticed something about them.”_

_Gladio straightened himself out, leaning more into his arm the was proped up on the bar counter._

_“Really?”_

_“They just,” you stared at the wall of alcoholic bottles before you, “they just seemed to glow this bright gold, cut through the rain and all. I don’t know if I was just seeing things or if your eyes just change colors and I just only noticed it then, but… I fell in love with them.”_

* * *

It always fascinated him at how large his meaty paw was compared to yours. Here was his hand - roughened with battle and scars from wars and fights and from years of training- and then there were your hands - soft and small, only small scars and such from your normal daily life. He couldn’t help but want to squeeze your hand tighter as his fingers encased your whole hand while your fingers entwined with his.

He loved this, he loved you. He watched you from the corner of his eye, his amber orbs trained on your smiling form as you looked ahead at the sidewalk winding before you. He loved how the streetlights illuminated your face, made your smile shine brightly in the night and your eyes glow warmly with love. He could smell you, your sweet, teasing scent wafting in his nostrils, dancing with his mind and making him only want you more.

He loved your scent.

You could see his amber orbs staring at you, love swelled in your chest as you let out a small laugh.

“You know I can see you staring at me, right?” you smirked.

“I can’t look at you? My beauty?” he asked as he stopped walking. His unoccupied hand came up quickly to hook a strand of loose hair behind your ear. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours, his warm breath hit you. “What gave me away?” he smirked.

“Your eyes give you away.”

“My eyes?” he questioned as he got closer.

His other hand hooked yours up to squeeze it firmly.

“They’re just so bright, it’s as if fire was trapped in your eyes,” you murmured as you brushed your nose against his.

“So poetic of you.”

Another laugh escaped him, he tilted his head down so your foreheads touched.

Your hands unhooked, his hands rested on your hips as yours snaked up to card into his thick chocolate brown locks. Twirling some of the hair in your grip, you tugged on the strands which earned you a deep growl from Gladiolus. His hands rubbed tight circles into your hips, his nails dug into your clothing as he brought you forward.

“I fucking love you,” he murmured as your lips barely touched.

He had suddenly grabbed a hold of your bottom lip and tugged on it gently, using just enough force to pull you in closer so he could capture your lips in a heated kiss. Another growl slipped past him as his hands shot up from your waist to your shoulders and neck where he pushed you closer to him until your chests smacked into each other. You pulled away quickly and tugged on his hair again.

“I fucking love you too,” you whimpered before you were pulled back into the fiery kiss by his roughened hands.

Just the primal sense of passion that he was exerting into this was enough to get you to moan into the kiss, your knees shook a bit as your waist pressed against his. You could feel how hot he was, and it wasn’t just the summer heat that was doing the work. He was heated down there, his hands were pressing hot prints to your clothing that seemed to burn through your clothes and stick to your soft flesh. What were you doing to him?

Another growl shot through him, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine to rock you to the core, another moan slipping past your lips as your lips retreated to take in a shaky breath.

What was he doing to you?

He moaned behind closed lips before you pulled him back into the kiss by the thick strands of hair you had in your grip. He tugged at your lips, asking for entrance which you couldn’t say no. You couldn’t say no to him, not when he was like this and not when you were like the way you were.

Who cares if the public sees? You two didn’t. Everyone knew who was dating the royal shield. Even if you two were to try and keep it a secret, word spreads fast in Insomnia. Virtually everyone in Insomnia are gossipers, nobody was safe.

“Our fucking luck,” you heard someone call out down the street.

Gladio shot away from your grip, your hands slipping from his hair to his broad shoulders as he looked at the person who just spoke. You couldn’t help but settle the curiosity that bubbled in your veins. You looked at where Gladio was looking, a man stood not too far away, an intersecting road and a small stretch of sidewalk was the only thing keeping you two away from him. By the looks of his attire, you could tell he was a hunter.

A black getup, belts holding a mixture of small knives and flasks of potions and magic. His boots were coated with mud, leather gloves crinkled and worn. His whole attire was stitched up in multiple areas, he must’ve been too stubborn to even buy a new set, either that or he never got any business. But something stood out to you on his uniform: A pin clamping down a pocket on his vest. It looked to be a small silver wolf’s head, jaws unhinged and its eyes the color of rubies. Was he some sort of legendary hunter?

You were pulled out of your observations when Gladio’s fingers pressed into your skin.

“C’mon,” Gladio stated as he tugged you by your hips.

His hands had left your body, but you could still feel the heat from where his palms pressed up against your hips. He snatched up your hand and started to tug you down the sidewalk, away from the hunter as you two watched the man now behind you, still standing at the crosswalk unmoving. He kept his eyes behind him, locked onto the hunter. You looked over your shoulder to see the hunter slowly walking forward, something glinting in one of his balled fists.

Gladio looked forward for just a second and stopped dead in his tracks, yanking you back to him and pressing you close to his side. Upon looking in front of you, there was another man in hunters gear at the end of the avenue block completely still but looking straight at us. He wore the same pin on his jacket. The ruby red eyes taunting you, playing with your mind.

Should you know what they mean?

Gladio looked around only to freeze up when another hunter was across the street to our side.

“What’s going on, Gladdy?” you murmured to your boyfriend.

The three men had started to walk forward, slowly narrowing the space between you all.

“Let’s go,” Gladio grumbled as he snatched up your hand and yanked you with him.

He turned to the alleyway beside you and weaved around the corners, he was taking long yet quick strides down the darkened path as he occasionally looked back to check.

“Gladio?” you asked as you tried to keep up. “What’s going on? Do you know those hunters?”

You two skid to a stop as a locked gate had blocked your path. Gladio snarled and grabbed a hold of the fence, he tugged on it as he eyed around for any lock in sight.

“Step away from the monster,” a stern voice ordered.

You two spun around, the three hunters were there and hadn’t stopped advancing. Gladio tried to stand in front of you to block you from them, but one of the hunters grabbed a hold of him by his jacket and forced him up against the dirty alley walls while the other two hunters were free to grab you.

Your eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving you. Nobody has ever been able to do that to Gladiolus Amicita, press him up against a wall let alone have the guts to do such a thing to such a big man.

“Gladio!” you cried out as your struggled in their grips.

They snatched a hold of your arms before clapping you on the mouth, holding your jaw and squeezing it tight.

You couldn’t see what was happening to him, it was far too dark to tell anything, but you could make out the sound of a fight as you were dragged back and away from him. You whimpered into the gloved hand and tried to push your way past their grip, but you were only yanked back once more. You couldn’t see it, but Gladio’s fingers had started to lengthen, cracking and popping softly that you couldn’t hear it nor see it, especially with the claws ripping through his cuticles.

Muffling another cry, you watched on in horror as his arm that was keeping him up violently cracked out of place, lengthening and the skin turning a medium gray as hair started to grow abundantly all over his exposed skin. You stopped moving as you could only watch his body jerk around, bones pressing against the skin so it’ll grow and stretch, watching as muscle tore and reformed and fur grew in thick strands down expanding body. His voice deepened with every breath he took, turning into snarls and growls the more his mouth had formed a muzzle full of fangs ready to snap down on anything that got in his way. Your knees shook as he lifted his eyes to stare at you, watching as his amber eyes that were once so vibrant and filled with love pale to a stale gold filled with hatred and hunger.

‘Six… Please… Help me,’ you thought as you kept your eyes trained on the dog-like creature now hunched over the shreds of clothing he once wore not even five minutes ago.

Ragged breaths escaped your boyfriend as his golden eyes had become cut in half by the thin pupil, the shine from them illuminating the rows of jagged teeth and his growing facial hair and his nose that had looked to be broken. He bared his teeth at all of you, a deep growl rumbling through him.

His eyes no longer that beautiful amber, but now a bright, shiny gold that looked so fake, like on those stupid advertisements offering to buy used jewelry. They seemed so familiar to you, so lovely, so warm, so protective.  
You were hypnotized, entranced, your mind swimming as you took a shaky step away from him.

Gold, like when you first met him those years ago.

* * *

_Rain smacked harshly against your skin, beating you, soaking you, weighing you down. The books above your head, clamped between clammy, shaking hands did nothing to help you, only making things worse as you know you would have to get a new copy tomorrow._

_You skid to a stop at the small bus station, taking advantage as to slip under the curved clear roof and sit down on the small metal bench. You panted, shivered, sniffled as you winced when you pressed your feet into the sidewalk. An uncomfortable squishing sound cut through the air, making you sneer at such a sound._

_A crackle of lightning lit up the sky, sending looming shadows of the skyscrapers to cast over your much smaller person. The book suddenly became a bunch of heavy bricks in your hand, falling to the ground. You huffed, knowing there was nothing else that could happen to it to ruin its value, you could see leaks of black ink swirling with rainwater pouring over the soggy sides of the book’s dented curves._

_You hear someone else rushing through the rain, heavy footsteps pounding against the damp sidewalk until their larger form skid to a stop, backing into bus station._

_Your eyes widened, cheeks flushed as you couldn’t help but stare at the man beside you, panting and raking his large fingers through his dark locks._

_The king’s shield himself was now sitting next to you on the small bench._

_He glanced over at you, still panting and gasping softly, only to smirk and wink at you. His amber eyes snaring you in a trance as you watched them slowly turn to a hearty gold._


	9. A Potion In Moonlight: Ignis x Reader (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Self-esteem issues.  
> Kinks: None. Just some vanilla loving.
> 
> Song Choice: Out of Control - She Wants Revenge

Jealousy bubbled in your stomach like the contents inside of a cauldron, steamy bitterness clogging your throat and self-esteem venting out of any open hole. Your eyes slowly dropping from the crowds surging through Lestallum streets to your feet, following everyone’s feet instead of looking where you were actually heading.

Being surrounded in Lestallum by big, brilliant, beautiful and powerful women was sure to dampen your mood. You felt so small, so weak, so fragile and so exposed as if all of your flaws were worn on your arm. You hated this feeling swelling in your chest. Your cheeks flared and burned up with jealousy, tears threatening to at your eyes.

Six, it felt like a million needles were stabbing right into your eyes.

Why were you here? Why were you with them? Why was someone like you placed on this mission? How did King Regis look at you and ask you to travel with the prince and company?

You felt so honored at the time, but now, you feel as though this is just a scam to show you how worthless you really are.

You could feel gazes on you, burning your skin with their glares, whispers mulling your ears, your heart pounding against your chest. You felt dizzy. You felt sick.

“(Y/n), are you feeling alright?” Ignis suddenly asked, cutting through your inner breakdown.

You looked up, eyes probably bloodshot and nose threatening to leak with your lips parted. Ignis stood before you - the three others behind him, offering content smiles - green eyes shooting right through you, only making you want to bury yourself deep underground and never come out.

You felt ashamed to be under his gaze, looking at you as if he were a disappointed mother.

Instead of offering him a direct answer, Ignis instead pulling off one of his driving gloves to press it to your forehead, then cheeks respectively. He hummed, slipped back on his glove and nodded towards the hotel you all were staying in.

“A small fever perhaps. Best we get you to bed for some rest,” he hummed contently. “Perhaps Jared will know what may be wrong with you if you wish?”

“I…” you breathed out, only to find yourself unable to confess your feelings in front of everyone. So, you only nodded. “Sure. Maybe.”

Ignis reached down without second thought and pulled on your hand, tugging you towards the hotel with the three others leading.

Your hand burned. It didn’t belong in his hand, you didn’t belong with him. You hated how you wanted to rip your hand away, coil up in the darkness and never come out. You wanted to hide from the world. You didn’t deserve this, and you didn’t deserve him.

A cold rush of air made you wince before you found yourself in the lobby of the hotel. Your feet never stopped to enjoy the nice ocean blue painted walls or the nice white marble floors that were waxed to perfection, you were just pulled to the elevator and were taken directly back to your room.

You all had split two rooms, yourself and Ignis is one room while Gladio, Noctis and Prompto took the other…

At least you had some privacy, in case you did have a breakdown in front of Ignis. Six, you already felt like you were able to breakdown right about now.

“Just lay down love, I’ll be there in just a moment,” Ignis purred softly in your ear, squeezing your shoulders gently.

Ignis never entered the room, instead only joining the three in their room to probably snag a potion if your “sickness” were to turn sour. Your stomach twisted in knots as you looked at the light gray curtains, wanting to flow freely in the warm breeze, but the sealed windows didn’t give in to their wishes. The sun outside burned your eyes, your fingers moved on their own to snatch at the curtains and forcefully snap them shut, allowing them to dance as they slid closed, barring any sunlight to pour into the room.

You turned to the bed, sitting down on your usual side of the bed, back turned to the door. You didn’t lie down though, you just sat there, elbows on your knees, head down as you waited for Ignis’ return.

Maybe talking with him will help? He always appreciated when you were 100% honest with him, so this should be no different… Right? The cold, icy claws of guilt and worry started to creep up your spine, your thoughts clouding over to give in to their desires.

What if he sees you as a burden? A waste of time? What if he realizes that you are just acting like a spoiled child and leave you? What if they all get tired and leave you behind? Here in Lestallum?

You swore you could feel bile bubbling at the back of your throat.

The creak of the door opening made you open your eyes, realizing that your head was in your hands.

“Love, I know you aren’t sick,” Ignis sighed softly. The door closed behind him, you could hear his pointed, strong footsteps slowly walk off the hardwood floors onto the lush rug under the bed. “But I do know that you are unwell.” Ignis soon entered your vision out of the corner of your eye. He had a potion in hand that would go to no use now, so he set it next to him when he sat down. “Talk to me. Open up those locked doors to let me see and let me in.”

“I…” you whispered. You shook, started to tremble, body jerking when Ignis placed a calm hand on your back to rub soothing circles on your clothed skin. “I…” you whimpered, now sniffling.

“Kitten, there is no need to be so anxious. I’m here, I will not leave you,” he hummed.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you cried, finally opening the waterworks and letting the floodgates open.

Ignis was shocked at your sudden outburst, now kneeling before you and placing his firm hands on your knees while you cried into your hands.

“My love, please. What do you mean? Of course, you should be here. You belong with us, here.”

“No, I don’t Ignis.” You ripped your face away from your hands to look at him. His face softened when he saw yours coated with tears. “I’m not good enough to stand next to you or Prompto or Gladio, I shouldn’t even be in the Crownsguard.”

“(Y/n),” he murmured, his face painted with agony and sorrow.

“I don’t even know why I was appointed to be the healer of this group,” you sniffled, finally looking at the plush faux fur floor. “I don’t… I can’t grasp how-”

“Stop,” Ignis ordered. Your lips parted in shock, your eyes burning as you looked back up at your lover to see his face contorted int disappointment. His lips pressed into a thin line, eyebrows arched defensively, nostrils threatening to flare, his green eyes making you feel like a misbehaving child that will get a scolding soon. “You belong here. You belong with us on the road to Altissia, you belong on this mission to help bring peace, you belong with me.” Ignis stood up, his thin figure looming over you, his shadow not feeling cold and unforgiving like you expected, but warm and inviting. Your lips trembled and quivered, your head following him on his journey up straight. “You deserve to be happy, love.”

His gentle hands cupped your jaw, thumbs rolling along your cheekbones and tracing the grooves in your cheeks to your chin. He brushed the hair from your eyes, wiped away the sticky tears matted to your face with the pads of his thumbs.

“Ignis,” you mumbled.

“Darling, I love you,” he sighed, tears brimming his own eyes. “Please, love, always know that.”

Ignis’ cheeks started to dust pink, his own lips trembling before he leaned down to press his lips to yours. Ignis’ hands shook on your jaw, quickly latching onto your back and grabbing handfuls of your clothing with rocking hands.

* * *

His hands guided your hips along his shaft, nails biting into your bare flesh as you yourself clawed at his bare chest. A soft moan pierced through you, the coil inside of you tightened, heat dripping through you like fire. Ignis winced, groaning and bucking his hips up, into nether lips, stretching you more.

You felt so full, your eyes lulling to the back of your head. You tilted your head back, hands clinging to Ignis’ shoulders as you rocked your hips back and forth on his cock. Guttural moans, soft groans, and sharp gasps punctured through you.

Sweat matted hair clung to your face, your eyes closed, mouth agape.

The moonlight shined through the open window, light gray curtains finally fluttering and dancing in the warm Lestallum breeze. You could hear the sounds of the city in the night: Heels and boots on sidewalks, the distant beats of underground clubs, the power plant coming to life every now and again before silencing into a monotone hum. The pale moonlight shined through, illuminating the blanket of sweat that covered both of you.

It was peaceful, lulling you both into a deeper sense of calm despite the growing tensions inside both of you.

“(Y/n),” Ignis wheezed, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“I-Ignis.”

The headboard of the bed faintly pounded against the wall, soft thuds filling the room between your gasps and groans and moans. You were sure the three could hear what you were doing, but you knew they had no mind to 

Your hands moved from Ignis’ body to your, fingertips brushing over the delicate skin of the hickies and splotches left on your soft flesh, each one sensitive to your touch, fingers twitching and face flinching in pleasure as Ignis’ hands rose slowly from your hips to your breasts. He gently squeezed the underside of your breasts, fingertips digging into the squishy flesh.

“(Y/n),” Ignis moaned louder, the plush pillow under his head creeping over the sides of his face.

“Ig-Iggy!”

The headboard started to pound a litter harder, soft thuds now becoming obvious harsher thuds. They wouldn’t wake a normal sleeper, but light sleepers around you were probably annoyed now.

You faintly heard the three snickering in their room, your eyes glaring at the wall behind you only to shriek softly, grabbing your own flesh and hunching over. You felt yourself come undone on his cock, Ignis only whimpering and whining as he slowly pumped his penis in and out of you. You could feel his length twitching and shuddering inside of you.

He was close.

You uncurled your back, eyeing his seductively before pushing a strand of sweaty hair away from your face. Your other hand came down to his tight abdomen starting to slowly become slippery with your slick running down the length of his cock. He was whining, grasping at whatever he could to get off. You, your breasts, your hips, and soon the sheets coated in your mixed sweat until he found himself bucking up harshly into you, warmth pooling and coating your insides white. You cried out, head tilting back and mouth agape while Ignis moaned hoarsely below you.

You collapsed on top of Ignis, rolling over until your head was against his chest, you face pointing towards the cool breeze brushing against your heated skin. It felt divine against your sensitive skin.

A ray of moonlight shined through the open window, and through your fatigued gaze over the rise and fall of Ignis’ firm chest, you could see the potion glinting beautifully in the soft light. You found yourself quickly lulling to sleep, the sound of Ignis’ slowing heartbeat and the calm sound of the city outside were just perfect enough for you to shut your eyes, and breathe in the scents of your lover beside you, nuzzling your nose into his chest and finally passing out.


	10. Lily: Sean x Fem!Reader (Semi-NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Hallucinations/flashbacks, mentions of death, angst.
> 
> Song Choice: The Lion’s Roar - First Aid Kit

**Sean’s P.O.V.  
**

* * *

“Any new fella’s in camp?” he smirked at the back of Javier’s head, a red eyebrow raising on his forehead. “New lasses, maybe?”

“One. Arthur found her nearly half-dead, apparently, she was a wanted woman by the Pinkertons too. He found her wounded with two dead Pinkertons near her,” Javier shrugged. “She’s alright now, last I saw at camp.”

“I’ll have to see fer myself,” he smirked.

* * *

His jaw slackened when he saw you. Even long down the road, he could make out your shining hair clinging to your face with sweat, buckets of water in your hands as you lugged them around camp. You were like a jewel in a pile of coins, a wine bottle mixed in with flasks of whiskey. A beautiful delight to his eyes.

Javier awaited Sean’s babbling about how you were the apple of his eye, his eyes only narrowing with confusion when Sean never spoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sean shocked, jaw unhinged and mouth agape.

It was a rare sight to see Sean like this, even more, rare for the Irish-man to not be speaking, especially over a lady.

Javier pulled on the reigns of his horse, the equestrian halting and snorting, shaking its thick neck and its wild mane while the two men slipped off of the saddle.

Sean was still staring at you from across camp, his eyes rolling over the ruffles of your dress, the curves of your hips, drinking in your beautiful skin and roughened hands from fights, hair tugged back into a tight bun. He found himself utterly speechless, something that definitely shocked the others, all expecting him to make a big show about his return, kissing everyone on the cheek and hugging everyone tightly before wanting to slip back into his normal routine.

“What’s her name?” Sean found himself murmuring to Javier who was currently rummaging through his pockets for something, a cigarette probably.

“(Y/n), I think. I don’t know, go ask her. She’s nice,” Javier snickered.

“Fine, then, I will,” Sean huffed.

The Irishman strode across the camp, chin level to the ground and head held high, but the closer he got to you, the faster his posture seemed to deteriorate. His once confident posture now hunched in while he found it hard to continue walking forward, each step feeling like his feet were slowly filling with lead until he was behind you.

Your dress swayed behind you as you continued to wash rags on the small table, you were blissfully unaware of the man behind you, he thought.

“Are you gonna just stand behind me, probably lookin’ at my ass by the way, or are you gonna introduce yourself like a gentleman?” he heard you spit.

You placed down a soaking wet rag on the rim of one bucket and turned to him. Sean’s face suddenly grew warm, his eyes widening and jaw slacking once more. You raised a brow when he didn’t say anything, lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I-”

* * *

**Your P.O.V.**

* * *

“I-” the Irishman stuttered, his green eyes the size of silver dollars and his jaw slackened as if it were punched. “I’m…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. It was amusing, really, seeing the man before you stutter like an idiot.

“I’m (Y/n),” you smiled as you put a hand out to shake.

The man before you suddenly stood up straight, puffed out his chest and scooped up your hand. He brought the back of your hand up to his lips, pressing a scratchy kiss to the bruised skin all while keeping his eyes on you.

“Sean Macguire,” he winked.

Your cheeks flushed, a laugh bubbling up from your lips.

“Are you always this… charming?”

“Always.”

* * *

It had been not even a week since Sean had been saved, and he was already trying to swoon you. Wildflowers ripped from the ground were given to you, new perfumes were found in your tent, jewelry magically found a place in your bags (stolen of course as you heard that was his specialty). You practically started to expect his next trick to swoon you, betting with yourself on what it would be. Another piece of jewelry? A love letter? Hell, maybe he’ll steal a piece of parchment from Arthur and draw you.

But what you hadn’t expected was for the Irishman to gallop up on a horse next to you and offer you a ride to God knows where, but he offered that it was beautiful and he even bet that you would love it.

You couldn’t pass up the offer.

The way he looked at you, the way he hoisted you up onto the horse and how he wrapped your arms around his waist… You couldn’t help but blush.

He brought you into the woods, where the golden sun bled through the parts in the trees, woodland animals roamed freely, where beautiful flowers had bloomed, where birds chirped and sang. It was something straight out of a tale you daddy used to tell you when you were a little girl.

It was truly breath-taking.

Your mouth hung open, a soft gasp of adoration leaving you as your eyes blew wide.

“I thought you’d love it,” Sean chuckled, one of his sea green eyes peering back at you.

* * *

Sean stumbled up the stairs with you in his arms, holding your bridal style and biting at your swollen, sweet lips. He purred under your grasp, your fingers digging into his red locks of hair, scratching at his scalp as his bowler hat was clung in between two of your fingers.

His hips banged into the banister a few times, earning a soft huff from the man at the front desk. A soft moan escaped you, tilting your head back and enjoying Sean as his lips locked onto your throat, giving you enough time to look at the peeling “ornate” wallpaper and the “freshly cleaned” hardwood floors that kicked up dust when Sean stumbled on them.

A chill ran down your spine when you felt Sean’s teeth roll over your pulse, nipping at your bare skin that had become goosefleshed.

“Sean,” you groaned, feeling his fingers dig into the fabric of your skirt, grabbing a big handful and tugging.

You could feel your dress start to give way just a bit, hearing a few seams faintly popping at the tug.

Sean had kicked the door in, as the hotel was all but loud. No names were in the guestbook downstairs for tonight. Kicking the door closed with his heel, he carefully placed you down on the rickety, cheap old bed. The cheap yellow sheets and blankets pillowed up beneath your head, the newspaper thin pillows doing nothing but sit pretty just a little ways away from your head.

Sean’s heated hands combed through your dress skirt, pushing the soft fabric above your thighs, the roughened pads of his thumbs running along your smooth, soft skin before pulling away, reaching to undo your dress and slip it off of your warm body. You moaned, your back arching off of the bed as your body was soon uncovered, leaving you in only your brassiere and panties.

He slowly brought his nose to the back of your ear and hummed as his hands kneaded your hips. His fingers slid under your body, allowing his large, thin hands to cup the soft and squishy flesh of your behind, his nails instantly digging into it and into your underwear.

The window looming along the wall only provided so much light, as the moon had not risen yet. The table lamp sitting on the end table went unused by either one of you. The window was cracked open a bit, the smell of horses and booze and sweat filtered into the room, but you could only focus of Sean above you, his lips once again pressing into the sensitive skin of your throat.

He could feel you starting to become slick. A soft moan pressed against your lips, trying to come out only to muffle in your throat. Your hands gripped onto the sheets for support, only kicking up the scents from the past guests that stayed in this room. Sweat and a night of debauchery, just like your night now.

Your muscles started to relax just as you found yourself starting to slip into that state of Nirvana that only he can put you in. Only he knew how to treat you right. He didn’t treat you like a precious flower or expensive glass, he treated you like a human being. He knew you were strong and valiant.

He whispered in your ear, murmuring how he would treat you, spend the night with you, love you like you deserved to be loved all while looking you in the eyes.

You loved his sea green eyes, you loved how you get lost in them.

You loved him as a whole.

* * *

A rough hand shook you awake, thick fingers digging into your shoulder and jerking you back and forth. Your eyes fluttered open, a soft gasp pressing past your lips as you suddenly became aware of your surroundings.

“(Y/n), get yer head out of the ground,” Arthur grunted. “We don’ have much time.”

You looked to your feet to see a curve of stones carefully tossed into a pile, a long wooden cross in between the grooves of stones, standing strong and standing tall. Soft wildflowers swayed, long grass brushed against the stones and cross, the trees behind providing just enough shade to block you two from the unforgiving sun.

“Arthur,” you murmured.

Arthur gently squeezed your shoulder before letting go of you.

“Say goodbye to him, darlin’, but then we gotta go,” he stated firmly before walking off.

You could hear a saddle jingle and a horse snort, hooves clopping against stone and dirt.

Your hands tightened, a soft crunch making you look down at your shaking fingers to see a single lily clasped between the grooves of your palm, the stalk now bent and dented from you.

You looked back up at the grave before you, sorrow welling up in your chest, your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage. Your eyes felt sluggish, your shoulders aching, your throat hoarse and rare.

You hiked up your black skirt in your hands, slowly kneeling down until your bare knees pressed into the gravel on the ground, your skirt pooling around you.

You didn’t say a word, your eyes just trailing from the lily in your hands to the cross before you, now towering over your sniffling form.

You didn’t want to let go of the flower in your hands.

You didn’t want to give in, you didn’t want to accept they were truly gone…

That he was truly gone.

Your hands started to tremble, the pure virgin petals of the lily started to shake. You whimpered, throat tightening and tears swimming along the rims of your eyes. You opened your mouth, but no sound came it. Your jaw hinged closed, tears now streaming down your heated cheeks. You sniffled loudly, not even bothering to reach for something to wipe your face with.

You could hear distant gunfire, the horse behind you whimpering and whining, their hooves digging into the dirt and kicking up clouds of dust.

“(Y/n),” Arthur warned, reaching for one of the guns strapped to his back.

The lily beneath your grasp trembled, shaking like a leaf in a storm until your hands finally let go, the delicate flower now sitting at the foot of the grave.

“I love you,” you whimpered softly.

You felt Arthur hook a strong arm under your chest, heaving you up and hoisting you onto his horse, all while your eyes never left his grave. Tears now freely streaming down your face, as soft sobs started to leave you, your shoulders jerking with every hiccup.

With a crack of the reigns, you soon found the grave growing smaller and smaller until it was soon out of sight.

“I love you,” you whispered.


	11. Semper Fidelis: Ardyn x Fem!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does not contain any kinks or warnings.
> 
> Song Choice: Colour Me Good - Dancing on Tables

“My dear queen,” Ardyn cooed, his hands now on your aching feet, thumbing off the stockings you had bunched at your ankles, “are you hurting?”

“No, it’s just the heels,” you hummed, draping an arm over your eyes. “They killing me.”

His fingers started to knead the tender skin of your strained feet, a soft gasp leaving you when he reached a sensitive knot. His fingers worked like magic. Firm yet gentle, smooth and tender and full of care.

“Would you like a pair of flats instead?” he offered. “I can have someone quickly fetch them from our quarters if you’d like, my queen.”

“Oh, Ardyn, so compassionate.”

You leaned back against the plush, overstuffed loveseat, head tilting back over the curves of the tall cushions when Ardyn hit another tender knot. A soft moan left your painted lips.

You could hear the grand piano and the orchestra through the thick walls, faint music rattling the paintings in the room you two had retreated room, a simple comfort room for visiting guests. Overstuffed loveseats and chairs, beautiful paintings and trophies lining the walls, a behemoth skin rug sitting underneath your feet. The curtains were drawn shut, obscuring your view of the outside, no MTs in sight.

Your hands curled around your ballroom dress tightly when Ardyn’s fingers worked out more knots in your feet, fingertips working diligently and firmly to relieve the pressures stored inside of your feet thanks to those devilish heels.

You glared at said heels left by the door, kicked off and laying on their polished sides. They were great to walk and stand in, but not great to dance in. Especially with a crowd a large as this.

“Do you think people will notice we’re gone?” you eyed the closed door, looking at the shiny golden knob to see if it turned.

“Most likely. People notice when lights are gone, and my queen,” he looked up at you, “you are the brightest star.”

His muddy green eyes seemed to sparkle like mineral water the more he looked at your face, his lips curled into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

“Ardyn,” you cooed.

“(Y/n), I can call someone to fetch your heels if you wish to go back to the ball.”

“In a moment, Ardyn, I just want to be alone with you.”

Ardyn had moved over to your other foot, giving it just as much attention that he gave to your first one. Gentle rubs, firm strokes. You felt as though you were in Heaven from all the attention he’s been giving you lately.

He hasn’t been around much, leaving every day to go somewhere only to come back exhausted and overworked. You remembered one night where he just came back and barely made it to your bedroom before passing out on the plush carpet face-first. Other times you would find him at his desk surrounded by papers and files and folders, hunched over his desk with his head in his hands, tugging on his wine-colored hair. You would often bring him a cup of warm tea and massage his aching stiff shoulders, humming a lullaby from long ago in his ear to help him calm down and relax. He wouldn’t come to bed most nights, you would find him either passed out on his desk or in one of the comfort rooms, insisting that he didn’t wish to wake you up in the middle of the night.

He adored you when you were by his side, always lending a hand to his work and staying by his side through his journeys. He loved you, you could see it in the warmth of his eyes and hear it in his rumbling laughter and in his gravelly voice. He loved you and you knew it.

And now here he was, pampering you like you had pampered him.

“My queen, my lovely queen, would you like a pair of flats? I can call someone to get a pair for you.”

“In a moment, but for now, I just want you to sit here with me for a bit. You do so much for everyone here, you need a break.”

You pushed yourself from the middle of the loveseat to one end, gathering the silky layers of your dress, you hiked them over your thighs and eyed the empty space next to you.

Ardyn chuckled and agreed. He pulled the jacket of his tuxedo off and laid it over the arm of the loveseat and carefully sat down next to you, making sure he didn’t sit on your beautiful dress. He slid an arm over your shoulders, leaning you down to lay on his chest. His gloved hands were silky soft, carefully brushing and soothing your skin. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, careful of your beautiful hair, and pressed a kiss to your scalp. He hummed, closed his eyes and leaned back against the overstuffed loveseat.

He looked so handsome like this. He was in an expensive tuxedo that hugged his lean frame nicely. White silk gloves donned his large hands, golden pocket watch tucked into one of his pockets. He had shaven his face, ridding any stubble on his warm peach skin. His hair was combed back. You could actually see his whole face for once.

“Six, I love you,” he purred softly.

“And I love you.”

You had no idea how much time had passed. The music still dragged on in the ballroom, you could still hear people laughing, champagne flutes clinking, heels clicking on the polished marble floors. You were lulled into a sense of ease by his strong heartbeat pounding away inside of his chest, pumping at a steady pace that reminded you of the grandfather clocks scattered around.

You closed your eyes and only pressed your ear closer to his chest. You could smell him. He smelled sweet yet strong, like a nice bottle of wine and a hard shot of whiskey mixed into one big glass.

He was warm. It wasn’t suffocating in all of your layers of dress, though. It was pleasant and comforting.

You wished you could just lay down with him and stay forever.

Ardyn let go of your shoulder and moved to stand, leaving you alone of the loveseat. Your eyes followed him to the small telephone in the corner of the room, sitting on top of an ornate dark cherrywood table with blackened iron accents. He lifted the telephone up to his ear and dialed a series of numbers while you just and watched on.

“Yes, hello, I am in need of some assistance. No, no guards, just someone to fetch something from my chambers. A pair of flats for the Queen from her closet, black.” He looked over at me and placed the telephone to his neck. “What pair would you like love?”

You smiled and laughed at him, your cheeks heating up.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as they’re flats and not heels,” you shook your head with an amused smile.

Ardyn pressed the telephone back to his ear and hummed.

“Bring the flats with the padded insides, the pads are a light gray. On the toes of the flats, there are black bows, no patterns on them. The edges of the bows are ruffled. Felt, I believe. Bring those to the first comfort room, the first one to the left of the ballroom at once, sir. Thank you.”

You smiled widely at Ardyn, knowing he had mentioned his favorite pair of flats on you.

Ardyn placed the phone back into its receiver and glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, muddy hazel eyes sparkling at the sight of you. His lips pulled into a smile, he turned his lean figure and strode up to you. He kneeled at your feet bent at the knee from the loveseat and picked up your discarded stockings. He took one and left the other on the floor and cuffed it up just enough for your foot to cover and for the soft fabric to bunch at your ankle. He slowly kissed up your calf, tugging the stocking slowly, trailing behind his lips. He kissed up your knee, along your thigh and stopped when he neared your dress bunched up on your upper thighs, guarding your panties against his view. He performed the same act with the other stocking, taking his time to kiss along your skin, gently pulling the stocking in tow until it matched the other.

The knocking at the door forced you to throw the layers of your dress down, the silks and fabrics quickly swallowing your legs. Ardyn stood up and pulled open the door just enough to retrieve the shoes and trade them for the heels, giving loose instructions to leave them by your closet doors. He turned around with flats in hand and kneeled right back down in front of you.

You pulled the ruffles and layers of your skirt up just a bit to reveal your shoeless feet. Ardyn carefully slipped one flat on, then the other and stood back up, offering you a gloved hand.

“Shall we return to the ball, my queen?”

* * *

Classical music chimed away from the orchestra sitting pretty. Pianos rang out, violins hummed, cellos bellowed, harps plucked. It was all so calming.

Your arms were looped around Ardyn’s neck, hands lazily draped across his shoulders. He was the opposite. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, pressing you flush up against his chest, his hands keeping your firm and straight as to not trip over you.

Your bodies kept in time with the slow music, long sways, and quick footwork, making sure to match the other patrons around you as to not bump into any of them and cause a horrible and injuring effect.

Your arms slowly fell to his sides, fingers brushing along the stiff fabric of his tuxedo jacket as you looked lovingly into his muddly hazel eyes.

“You look so beautiful tonight, my queen, my lovely star, my guiding moon,” he cooed, pressing a quick kiss to your waiting lips.

“And you look so handsome, my king, my strong man, my wise sun.”

A sudden weight pulled down your ring finger. Your eyes lowered just enough to catch a golden sparkle. Your eyes widened and your jaw slackened. A large, bright and clear white diamond sat perfectly still, coils of rose gold wrapping around it and coiling around your finger in a thick band. Something was etched into the band, something you couldn’t read.

‘Semper Fidelis.’

What could it mean?

You looked up to Ardyn with tears in your eyes only to have him press his forehead to yours. He squeezed both of your hands tightly.

“My queen,” he started, “you do not know how much I love you. I love you more than the sun loves the moon, more than the stars love the sky. I will move mountains for you just so you could kiss me goodnight.” He raised your ring finger and slid a gloved thumb over the etched letters. “I am always faithful to you. Come to you always, be with you always, worship you always like the queen you are meant to be.”


	12. Tight Seams: Prompto x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Self-Esteem issues, self-confidence issues.
> 
> Song Recommendation: Despicable - grandson

You looked in the mirror and smirked as you placed your hands on your hips and cocked them to one side. A confident smile had tugged on your lips which helped your back curve as to make yourself seem taller.

You stared back at yourself in the mirror, completely ignoring the white marks that had become etched into your skin and the dips in your soft flesh. All you saw in the mirror was your true beauty and it just made you… you, it made you perfect.

You slid the pair of jeans off of the chair not too far from where you were standing and tugged them over your plush thighs before slipping into one of Prompto’s t-shirts he has lying around.

You were excited to get your uniform for your new position in the Crownsguard. Prompto had suggested it to you one night over dinner that there was a new position open and you didn’t need to think about it to accept. And with Prompto being a higher up Crownsguard member, all he had to do was offer your name and you got the job right there.

All you could think about in the car was what you would end up wearing as your uniform, it’s based on your character and how you fight, so you were hoping it would be at least something comfortable yet stylish. It was all you could think of for the whole ride over until Prompto had to bring you out of your thoughts.

“Ready to go, babe?” he asked as he opened your door and held out his lanky hand.

“Thanks,” you smiled up at your boyfriend before pressing a kiss to his lips as you dragged him down by his vest collar.

As he took your hand in his, you let him slip his thin and freckled fingers in between the spaces, locking you two together. You allowed him to guide you through the puzzle that was the Citadel, down the vexing hallways and perplexing rooms for balls and ceremonies, he came up to a room at the end of the hallway that was wedged in between two very beautiful gardens.

He let go of your hand to push open the large birch doors to reveal an aging woman feeling around bolts of different fabrics and fiddling with the metal tips of her limp measuring tape. A pencil was clamped between her pearly white teeth and her light brown hair was tossed up into a very messy bun with a pair of large white glasses kept her bangs back.

“Go away, I have an appointment for a new Crownsguard uniform,” she stated without emotion as soon as she took the pencil out of her painted red mouth.

“We are the appointment, Lei,” Prompto chuckled as he simply sauntered into the room of clustered fabrics and accessories.

It looked like one big cosmetics store had mixed with the world’s largest fabric store because there was stuff everywhere.

“It’s a huge pleasure to see you again Prompto,” she chirped happily as she peered over at him. “Are you getting a new uniform made? I’m sure I still have your measurements on file somewhere in this mess.”

Prompto chuckled and plopped down on a chair in a random spot in the large room.

“Don’t worry Lei, it’s for her/him,” he stated as he nodded his head in your direction.

Her stormy gray eyes glanced in your general direction before turning on her heel and lifted up a notebook.

“Step up on the pedestal over there and strip down to your underwear,” she pointed with her pencil as she snatched up a few things from her “desk”.

Really it was a pile of clutter: Crumpled papers, empty and bleeding markers and pens, snapped pencils and overloading sharpeners, small scraps of fabric and mannequin heads with wigs and hats and earrings on it.

How could someone work like that?

You shook it off as you shrugged your pants and shoes off before tossing your shirt off of your form and tossing it in Prompto’s direction.

“Wearing my shirts I see,” Prompto scoffed playfully as he folded the shirt up.

Sticking your tongue out at him, your feet were graced with the dusty surface of the pedestal as you stepped onto it, a quiet groan rumbling from under the stone the more of your weight was shifted onto it.

It didn’t take long for Lei to start measuring your body, starting with your neck and moving down your body. It was fine, going perfectly smooth as you followed her orders: Flex this, bend this as far as you can, twist this as far as you can, etc.

It was perfectly fine until she got to your lower abdomen and legs. She traced along the stretch marks that were visible from both above the seam of your underwear and below, showing off the white and red and gray spaces plastered on your skin.

“I’ll have to find a material that doesn’t cling to your stretch marks in this area,” she murmured as she scratched out items on her notebook. “I’ll probably size your pants up if that’s the case,” she murmured as she turned around.

You saw her circle a size that made it feel like a lead ball was shoved down your throat and now resided in the pit of your stomach.

Prompto had disappeared a little bit ago - Ignis had called him out for a quick minute, leaving you and Lei alone in the room - so he would never hear the comment Lei made and say something that will make that lead ball disappear.

Lei snatched up a pair of “testing” pants and spun around to you, catching your attention as she messed with the hem a bit before looking back at your legs. Her face scrunched up slightly and her arms dropped as a sigh left her.

“It seems you have cellulite, so there goes this idea and a lot of others,” she sighed as she tossed the pants over her shoulder.

As she proceeded to wander around to look for a fabric that would work for your body you’re head turned to look at the wall of curved mirrors now focused on your nearly nude body.

You seemed to shrink down in their presence as all you could see was your body standing there for them to stare, to look down at your stretch marks and your cellulite.

Hell, if only these mirrors could speak you knew they would just click their tongues and call you out on the marks and dips and curves and cuts in your skin and body that made you look imperfect.

Imperfect.

And here you thought that you looked amazing this morning. What were you talking about? You were covered, that mess was covered, so nobody could see the marks that stained your skin.

Biting the inside of your lip, you struggled to hold it together as the haunting thoughts chewed at your mind and tried to break you down.

You held it together long enough to get your uniform details out of the way so Lei could create copies and leave so you could meet Prompto at his car.

You stared down at your thighs, looking at the pants and noticing everything that was wrong with the skin lying beneath. There were visible dips in the fabric from where your cellulite laid if you were to lift up Prompto soft t-shirt.

You felt like you were suffocating though, wearing Prompto’s shirt. You had looked down to see it clinging to the rolls of fat clinging to your body. The shirt felt so tight all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

If someone were to run a finger across where your underwear had started and stopped, they would feel the deep stretch marks, the cracks in your skin from where fat had built up enough to stain your skin with their ugly marks.

Thoughts had haunted you ever since you were forced to stare on at the mirrors, at the reflections of your imperfect body for at least another ten minutes until Lei had finally let you out.

Saddening thoughts ate away your insides, tightening your throat, welling tears in your eyes, your stomach twisting in knots as you kept thinking.

Your thighs are too big.

Your stretch marks are horrendous.

Your cellulite is disgusting.

You’re nothing but a fat freak.

You started to regret taking up this Crownsguard job, you really did.

But Astrals did you start to feel selfish now because if you were to tell Prompto why you had changed your mind… Six, what would he think? What would he do knowing you didn’t wanna be a Crownsguard because of your uniform? Because of your stretch marks and your cellulite?

Your nerves were tensing, your shoulders started to tremble.

‘Oh Six above, don’t do this,’ you thought.

Were you really about to break down right now? Right here? In public where everyone can see you? Where your future coworkers would see you? Where Prompto, the King and the Prince would see you?

You sniffled a bit and let out a shaky breath as you couldn’t help but slide down the side of Prompto’s car as your hands struggled to stay still. Warm tears kissed your cheeks and started streams to become waterfalls as soon as the streams were to end as your chin and jaw. Hiccups emerged from your throat as your body was now trembling.

You didn’t hear the footsteps walk up next to you and stop right in front of you. You didn’t know of the presence standing there until you felt their hands gently slide onto your shoulders and grip them firmly.

“(Y/n),” they murmured.

It was him. He found you.

He found you breaking down.

Oh, how you wanted to crawl up into a ball and forget the world behind, but life doesn’t work like that.

“(Y/n), look at me,” he murmured as he tried to lift your soaking wet chin. It took a minute for him to pry your head up and to show your reddening eyes to him. You were sure you looked like a mess under his amber gaze. “(Y/n), what happened baby? What’s making you cry?” he asked softly as one of his hand lifted to brush away the tears pouring down your burning cheeks.

“Prom,” you managed to whimper out between hiccups and coughs.

“I’m here baby,” he murmured as he drew you into his chest.

You couldn’t help but cling to his shoulders and sob into the shoulder of his leather vest while clinging to the meat of his neck. He held you tightly, stroking your back and burying his hands in your hair to try and calm you down.

“Why are you crying?” he softly asked while shushing you as he lifted you onto the hood of his car.

He watched as you tried to wipe away the tears. You lifted up the edge of his t-shirt that covered your top and started to scrub at the hot, sticky tears that clung to your cheeks and jaw. It was only when you felt the wind tickle and brush up against your stomach did you realize you had accidentally lifted the shirt too high to reveal the stretch marks poking out from above your pants line. Shoving the shirt down, you tried to rub the tears away, but Prompto caught your arm.

He knew.

He could tell from just that one action what was wrong.

“Oh (Y/n),” he murmured softly as he looked down at you with softening amber eyes. Yanking you forward, you found yourself encased in his massive arms that were now tied firmly around you, squeezing you with affection and care and… just raw and undivided love. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured into your ear as he hugged you tighter.


	13. Society Doesn’t Matter: Noctis x Reader x Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Soft angst, flashbacks, body image issues, body dysmorphia.
> 
> Song Choice: Loser - Jagwar Twin

Silver stretch marks graced your skin, etching their everlasting marks to remind you of your past. You always told yourself that they were nothing, they were meaningless, worthless and that they didn’t have any real weight to pull you down. Your eyes stayed planted on the mirror, eyes paying attention to the scars splashing your face, mostly your cheeks and forehead covered in acne scars from your teenage years long ago. You could just hear their mocking voices behind you, calling you names when they thought you were out of ear-shot, how you didn’t fit in with everyone and how you didn’t live up to society’s norms. You were too big, you were too ugly, you weren’t perfect in any way, shape or form.  
Even now, you felt ugly just sitting in your skin. Sure you can cover the scars with makeup, but you knew they were still there, lying underneath foundation and concealer just waiting to remind you of how you never fit in. Sure you lost weight that padded your bones, but you still had the stretch marks and your skin was still squishy here and there, constantly reminding you that whatever you did, you wouldn’t forget your past.

Your fingertips slowly traced down the curves of your hips, making their way to your thighs to trace your stretch marks (or tiger stripes as your boyfriends say to try and cheer you up). You hated how your nails dug into the grooves on your skin, dipped with the cellulite, poked at the loose flesh that was still padded with some fat.

You stared absentmindedly at your reflection, looking over every single little scar that was plastered all over your body for everyone to see. Whether they were scars from where you were clumsy or scars from where you were adventurous, you hated them all.

Why couldn’t you have been born perfect? Skinny, fit, acne-free, no scars painted on your body? Why did you have to grow up to look like the butt end of a joke?

You shook your head, clearing the thoughts from your mind when you heard soft footsteps climbing the stairs. You stood up and yanked your shirt over your head, smoothing it out just in time for the door to open slowly. Through the reflection on the mirror, you saw Prompto poke his head through the door. His freckled face lit up when he saw you.

“You’re up!” he chirped.

“Up before Noct,” you smirked.

“That’s a feat of its own.” He pushed the door open with his thin hip just a bit more. “Wanna come downstairs and watch TV with us? You don’t have work today, do you?”

You shook your head and stood up from the bed, blankets nearly spilling onto the floor behind you, following him as he leads you away from the mirror that was still screaming at you, screaming for you to come back and point out your flaws until you were unraveling at the seams.

* * *

You were all in a mess of blankets, the soft fabrics tangling your limbs while your bodies pressed against each other. You laid behind Prompto, your cheek smushed against his while Noctis was laying not so graciously on top of both of you. His hair kept tickling your lips and threatening to get into your mouth. He was asleep on top of both of you, barring any movement from either one of you. He was softly snoring in your ears, drool threatening to spill out from the corner of his mouth and onto you two.

One of Noctis’ hands and reached out and grabbed a hold of your waist, hand coming to rest on your stomach, right on the soft flesh of your belly and covering your silver stretch marks. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, hideous, you wanted to get away.

You elbowed Noctis gently, trying to get him to wake up just enough to let you out, but you were just poking a dead horse at this point.

“Come on Noct, I gotta use the bathroom,” you huffed softly as you tried to lift the prince off of you.

You were so shocked that someone so thin could weigh so much when they’re asleep. It was like lifting a lead blanket off of you.

“Noct,” Prompto whined. His lanky hand came up to slap at Noctis’ face, his hand covering all of the prince’s face with what sounded like a wet slap. The prince finally grumbled and groaned, rolling off of you both until he somehow managed to slip in between your back and the cushions of the sofa. Prompto turned to look at you with bright eyes. “Do you need me to get up or can you climb over?”

“I can climb over,” you simply stated before heaving yourself over your other boyfriend.

As soon as your feet hit the floor, you instantly headed towards the bathroom and quickly slid the door closed. You slowly turned towards the body length mirror standing there, mocking you as you glanced at your pitiful form. You looked pathetic standing there, pretending to be happy and wasting their time.

You could hear it all again. The whispers, the snickers, the soft-spoken jokes behind your back… Your hips started to burn under your loose t-shirt and sweatpants, your hands slowly fumbled to pull the fabric of your t-shirt up until you tucked it under your chin, your fingers now peeling the waistband down to show the silvery stretch marks.

You started to choke, throat tightening as your chest squeezed. Tears prickled your eyes like thousands of pins. You sniffled and quickly dropped the t-shirt, your hands dropped the waistband of your sweatpants to quickly slap onto the handle of the toilet, quickly flushing it and turning on the sink and running your hands through the icy cold water.

When you thought it was the right time, you carefully wiped your cheeks and left the bathroom, keeping your head high with every stride across the living room to where the two were still laying in front of the tv.

Prompto eyed you with his violet gaze, blond eyebrows quickly scrunched up in worry. He pushed himself up to sit on his elbows.

“Are you okay, babe?” he murmured.

Noctis’ eyes flew open at those words, midnight blue eyes blinking before training on you. His own eyebrows pinched too. He forced himself to sit up straight, the blankets pooling in his lap.

“I’m fine, I just got some soap in my eyes.”

What a pathetic excuse, but it was the only thing you could make up on the spot.

“Those aren’t soap eyes, those are sad eyes,” Prompto huffed and sat up too. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just- I’m not…” Your lip quivered slightly, your teeth bit into the soft flesh to keep it from going any further. “I-”

Tears suddenly flooded your eyes, blinding you even more as a soft choke hiccuped through you. You felt their hands snatch at you and yank you forward, the couch soon seating your trembling body. Their fingers raked through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, knotting into the soft fabric while they rubbed your back in small, soothing circles. Soft kisses were pressed into your exposed neck, your shoulders, your ears, and anywhere they could reach as your hands guarded your red, wet face. You heard them murmur to you, whispering softly, promises of how they love you and how they won’t let anything hurt you.

“Why are you crying, (Y/n)?” Prompto spurred on as he laid his forehead against the side of your head.

You slowly pulled your hands away from your soaking face, still hot and sticky from the fresh coat of tears.

You could hear those whispers, those jokes, the laughs, the snickers, the scoffs, everything roared in your ear like a marching band, thundering and pounding away, making you feel insane and unworthy to be in the presence of your two boyfriends (especially as one was the prince and the other was the prince’s best friend). You trembled, choked, sniffled and coughed in front of the two as your hands cupped your shaking knees.

Why did you feel so cold all of a sudden?

“I’m not-” you coughed, “I’m not good enough for you… E-either of you.”

“What do you mean? You’re not good enough for us?” Noctis winced.

“Of course you’re good enough for us,” Prompto whimpered. You felt one of his long hands curled around one of yours that was currently clutching your knee. Noctis’ clammy hand wrapping around the other. “You’re so good for us, (Y/n), I promise,” he purred as he kissed your sticky cheek.

“Why would you think you’re not good enough for us, (Y/n)? You’re perfect,” Noctis stated softly as he squeezed your hand tighter.

“It’s just…” You pulled your hands out of their grips to wipe at your face and eyes. Your face was still hot and sticky, hair clinging to your face. “I’m not like either of you.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto whispered, kissing your jaw.

“I’m not perfect. I can’t be perfect, fuck, I shouldn’t even be with you two!”

You stood up and marched away from them only to have your knees buckle, but you still caught yourself on the wall. Prompto and Noctis hurried over to your sides. You started to cry again, cry into your hands as you leaned against the wall, sliding down slowly until your bottom hit the hardwood floor.

“(Y/n)…” you heard Noctis croon softly.

Their hands grabbed at your arms and shoulders, attempting to pull you up only for you to fight them.

“Stop, stop, don’t,” you sobbed. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch them!” Your small scars started to burn, boiling your skin and making you feel heavier than you already were. “Stop touching me.”

They looked at you with wide eyes and slackened jaws as you continued to sob on the floor until it suddenly clicked in Prompto’s head. He kneeled down in front of you and gathered you in his arms. You tried to fight back, push him away, crawl away into the darkest corner you could find and just cry it out, but Prompto held onto you for dear life.

“Is there something on their skin?” Noctis murmured as he peeled back a sleeve of your t-shirt.

“Noct, it’s not that,” Prompto murmured. He eyed your waist mournfully and then back into your eyes. “(Y/n), I know what you’ve been through.”

It suddenly seemed to click in Noct’s mind of what was going on now too, his face morphing into that of an unknowning worry. He never experienced what it was like to live outside of society’s norms, never have to worry about his looks or how he acted… He didn’t know. He simply kneeled down to your side and nuzzled your neck, still hot, but at least his cool skin felt nice pressing up against you.

You looked at Prompto with tears blurring your throbbing eyes only to break down into tears once more, launching right into his chest. his lanky arms wrapped over your shoulders and weaved behind your back, tightly squeezing you in a reassuring hug. Your tears soaked his t-shirt as you clung to Prompto before you with Noctis hovering behind you, pressing kisses to the back of your neck and nuzzling you.

“It’s okay,” Noctis murmured against your skin.

“Let it all out,” Prompto hummed.

You didn’t know why, but it only spurred on more and more tears and ugly sobs. You couldn’t help but cradle yourself, tuck yourself between the two as you continued to cry your heart out in front of them.


	14. I Don’t Recognize You Anymore: Older!Gladiolus x Friend!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Angst, alcohol, slight blood, drunken violence, abuse, attempted non-con, more angst
> 
> Song Choice: Over My Head (Cable Car) - The Fray

Your heart pounded in your ears, blood roaring and your temples thumping, blinding you as you paced around like a caged lion in front of the large windows before you, overlooking Lestallum below your apartment. You couldn’t help but huff and sigh as worry built up inside of your chest, tightening the coils and gears inside of you, feeling as though you were about to lose your mind. You often found yourself looking over to the front door every now and again, waiting for its opening to reveal the three men that housed you. Minutes passed, soon bleeding into an hour when you finally heard the telltale jingle of keys and hushed, tired whispers before the lights of the hallway disturbed the darkness of the apartment. Your heart sank when you only saw two figures, and not three.

“Where’s Gladio?” you murmured.

“We figured he would be here with you,” Ignis hummed, stumbling his way into the darkness while Prompto closed the door.

“He didn’t go on the hunt with you two?” you questioned, feeling as though something had wretched its way into the cogs and gears inside of your stomach.

You felt nauseous, dreadful, but most of all, scared.

“We thought he stayed here in town,” Prompto murmured, fear painting over his features.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

You snatched your coat from the chair beside you, heading for the door until Ignis wrapped his fingers around your wrist.

“You won’t find him alone,” he warned.

“Go get some rest,” you shot back, “you two just got back from a hunt.”

“(Y/n)-” Prompto whimpered.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll find him,” you stated firmly, prying your wrist free from Ignis’ hard grasp.

“Be careful,” Prompto warned, his eyebrows scrunching together, “you know how he gets when he’s alone.”

“I know, and I promise.”

You took one last look at the two before leaving through the front door.

You had only spent five minutes looking around central Lestallum when your phone started to vibrate in your coat pocket. Your stomach sank when you pulled it out only to find it was Iris that was calling.

“Iris,” you murmured as you placed the phone to your ear.

“(Y/n), Prompto called me, have you found Gladdy?” she whimpered into the phone.

“Not yet,” you winced, checking down alleys as you rushed through the weirdly abandoned streets. “Any ideas where to look?”

“Probably the bar? He’s been turning to alcohol ever since…”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Your mind swam in the ocean of memories, replaying when you first saw Gladio in a drunken fit after Noctis had vanished, he was lumbering, threatening, violent, but he was quick to pass out onto the floor of the apartment. “Thanks, Iris.”

“Please, just call me if you ever find him, (Y/n). I need to know he’s okay.”

“I promise.”

You hung up, sliding your phone back into its respected pocket.

That seemed to be all you ever said since darkness overtook everything. ‘I promise.’ It was the only thing you ever seemed to say to everyone. Your friends, your family, the people you tended to every day. Promising to find a person gone missing, promising to try and let them keep their limbs despite knowing you would have to amputate them, promising to keep others safe, and now promising to find your lumbering friend. It seems to be the only thing that keeps hope intact: Promises, despite some having to be broken.

Your feet carried you through the hollow streets, your eyes scanning for any sign of Gladio, only to land on a bar that was still open, just a few streets away from your apartment.

It was worth a shot to just peak your head in.

You pushed open the rickety old door, the hinges squeaking and dousing you with old, orange light from light bulbs needing to be updated. Your eyes winced at the dingy lights, especially the neon signs sitting just above the bar, the neon flickering, needing a change in mercury soon… If there was any mercury that could be spared.

The bar was styled to fit that of an old Galdin Quay theme, sandy paint now stained an ugly orange from years of cigarette abuse, brown wooden boarders loose from their spots along the walls and floors, needing to be nailed back into their respected spots. The flooring was dirty and dusty beyond repair, notches and scratches so deep, you worried for anyone that trips in this establishment.

The bar was somewhat occupied, mostly hunters that sat in the rickety old stools, passed out on the stained tables either in their own alcohol or the cheap bar foods. The bartender was an old man, seemingly a retired hunter from the pictures behind him. The waitresses looked to have smoked at least seven packs of cigarettes a day. The two seemingly dressed scantily clad in tight, pin-up dress and fishnet stockings, red pumps now stained with mud and cigarette ash. Their hair friend from bleach, their faces caked in makeup, and oh boy, cigarettes clamped between their teeth. The air smelled of vomit, cheap booze and - surprise surprise - cigarettes, it made your stomach churn.

Your eyes scanned through the crowd of hunters only to find the largest sitting at the bar, hunched over with his head in his hands, his long brown hair hanging in front of his face.

“Gladio,” you murmured. You walked up to Gladio and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing him. “Gladio it’s me. Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Get off of me,” he growled, fingers digging into his scalp.

Fear panged through you, making your stomach feel icy cold.

You weren’t afraid of Gladiolus Amicitia, oh no. He was one of your closest friends that made it out of Insomnia before everything had gone downhill. But when he was drunk… you were terrified of him. The thought of him using his harsh and brutal strength against you worried you endlessly.

“Gladio, we need to go home now,” you whispered to him. Gladio groaned, rubbing his face into the palm of his hands. “Iris is worried about you. Ignis is worried about you. Prompto is worried about you. We need to go home now, Gladio.”

Gladio only hummed, forcing himself to stand up, nudging you away. Your nose scrunched up as he reeked of cheap booze and stomach acid. His hair was a disheveled mess, his leather jacket crumpled, knuckles bruised and swollen, some stomach acid clinging to his chin. Sorrow took over you, bled through your heart and made you bite your lower lip.

Just seeing him like this struck a nerve in you, hitting you in the gut.

“Fuck,” Gladio grumbled, stumbling back from the barstool only to snatch at your shoulders to keep him still.

“Come on, let’s go home. Nice and slow now.”

You gripped onto him, hoisting one of his brawny arms over your shoulders and pulled him close until his hip pressed into yours. His knees wobbled, threatening to buckle and give way under him, but you stepped forward, waited for Gladio to adjust, then started over again. You overheard some of the hushed conversations, most scoffing at Gladio, spitting awful things about him and failing as the king’s shield. You only pushed forward, wanting to get him out of here as quickly as possible.

Step, wait, step, wait, step, wait until you two were outside. The cold wind made Gladio groan, wince as he swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

“I gotta-”

“You need to vomit again?” you questioned, eyeing his chin. Gladio shook his head, stumbling forward before nearly falling over, almost bringing you down with him. “What do you need to do, Gladio?”

“Iris…”

“What about Iris, Gladio?”

“I’m… sorry,” he mumbled, continuing to stumble forward with you.

Carrying him around was the least of your concerns, your heart still fluttering in your chest. You were just waiting for the second he lashes out at you (you hoped you were just worrying for nothing as Gladio never really harmed anyone besides the other drunk that pisses him off). At least him stumbling around the streets with you was better than you have to drag him back with a dolly.

A part of you thought that you should’ve at least accepted someone’s help or at least call Iris to let her know her brother wasn’t dead in a ditch but just drunk at some cheap, rundown bar.

A sense of dread loomed over you the closer you two got to the apartment. Gladio mumbled, slurred and rambled in your ear about complete random bullshit. Gladio only started to turn sour when you finally made it to your apartment, having to shove him into the elevator as you were not wanting to drag the behemoth of a man up flights of stairs.

You knew Gladio didn’t like elevators, but you didn’t have the strength to climb stairs with him on you at all and you didn’t want to disturb Prompto and Ignis as they had probably gone to bed.

Gladio leaned against the back of the elevator as you pushed a few buttons for your floor, you could feel his gaze on you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up straight. You swallowed, your knees shaking at the thought of him doing something irrational when he was drunk.

“Get me out of here,” he snarled.

“In a minute, Gladio,” you whimpered.

You heard him get up from his spot, take a hulking step until you felt his cold heat behind you, his ragged breathing brushing up against you.

“Get me out of here,” he growled threateningly.

The elevator dinged, the doors flew open and you were quick to push him out before he laid a hand on you. Tears pricked your eyes, your hands coming up to wipe them away as you dug through your pocket to find the house keys all while Gladio loomed over you, his shadow casting you in frightful, cold darkness.

The door flew open when you turned the key and pushed. Your fingers wrapped around Gladio’s jacket collar and tugged him inside before he could protest.

You didn’t pay attention to Gladio, figuring he would only stumble either over to the couch to pass out or back to his bed and pass out. You saw his figure move past yours, but you looked to the clock only to see it had almost been two hours since you left. A sigh left you, your head pounding from the lack of sleep, you had a feeling you were going in late tomorrow.

You heard the sound of one of the kitchen cabinets opening, your eyes jolting open as you found yourself racing to the kitchen.

“Gladio!” you called out.

The lumbering figure was rummaging through the liquor cabinet, pushing away wine bottles for a half-full bottle of whiskey in the back. He yanked off the cap and pressed the head of the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back and gulping it down.

“Gladio, stop!” you shouted, not caring if Ignis or Prompto heard you. You reached out and snatched the bottle from his meaty hand, holding it close to your chest as you backed away from him. “You’re drunk. You need to go to bed. Now. No more alcohol, please.”

The glare Gladio gave you suddenly ripped the boldness right out of your body, your shoulders once squared up and courageous now sagged and shook. Your eyebrows scrunched up in worry as you took another step back.

You suddenly found yourself pressed up against the wall, a meaty hand wrapped around your throat, raising you slowly off of the ground until your feet kicked for purchase, your face level with his. The bottle of whiskey slipped from your grip, shattering on the floor so you could claw at his hand.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?” he snarled.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, something wild and primal and monstrous.  You cried out, choked as tears streamed down your face. His grip on your neck only tightened, your vision blurry with tears.

“Glad-” you coughed out.

Your head jerked to the side with a violent crack, your body falling until your hands and knees were suddenly pressed into the glass. You screamed, wailed as the alcohol burned your wounds. Gladio caught one of your wrists, squeezing on it tightly, so tight that you heard soft pops from inside of the skin, unable to flex any of your fingers. You wailed as one of his thumbs pressed a large shard of glass deeper into your hand.

You heard stumbling from the bedrooms in your apartment, Prompto and Ignis now awake from your crying.

Through the tears blinding you, you saw how dark his eyes were. No longer those beautiful amber hues, now they were nearly black, like coal.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Acting like a saving grace? Promising shit you can’t keep?!”

“Let go of me,” you sobbed as you pulled on your aching wrist.

“You think I should let you go for everything you did?” Gladio snarled.

Gladio’s foot reeled out and forcefully knocked you backwards, your head slamming on the refrigerator and forcing you to see stars. You felt your pants suddenly loosen, the back of your thighs and knees now pressing into what was left of the glass shards and whiskey. You heard the zipper of your pants slowly undo itself, his nails digging into the waistband of your pants before yanking them off of your body, exposing your bare skin to the glass shards.

“Gladio!” you heard Prompto and Ignis call out in unison.

Another smack to your face forced more tears from your eyes, your head jerking to the side and eyes closing. You felt his fingers wrap around the fabric of your underwear until he was suddenly yanked back and away from you.

You opened your eyes only to have Prompto grab you by your forearms and pull you out of the mess below you. You saw Ignis pressing Gladio to the wall, the cane he never uses anymore now pressed into Gladio’s throat, forcing him to stay against the wall.

You didn’t recognize that man anymore. His soulless eyes, his hideous behavior, everything about him had changed.

You backed away, Prompto pushing you towards the bathroom, promising he would patch you up while Ignis finds out what exactly to do with Gladio.

**Gladio’s P.O.V.**

His head forced him awake, his body was stiff against the bed. He didn’t remember coming home from the bar, only going in with the intention to get blackout drunk and forget about the world. He rolled over, expecting you to be standing there, waiting for him with a glass of water and a few small aspirin pills, but when he opened his eyes, you weren’t there.

Something was wrong.

Horribly wrong.

He sat up, his head throbbing, making him wince and groan as his clutched his head, yanking on his hair.

He turned his head to the nightstand, thinking instead you had placed them there as you may have had work. But instead of a cold glass of water, some white pills and a note to be careful today, he only found an envelope with his name scribbled on it.

His heart sat heavy, he had a feeling on what the note said, but before he could open it, his phone started going off.

It hurt his head, the loud, obnoxious chime ringing in his head. He didn’t even bother looking at who was calling, instead, answering and pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he questioned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What did you do?” Iris blared.

Gladio’s eyes widened, landing on the envelope on his end table.

“What did I do?”


	15. Tough As Nails: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the following:  
> Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of torture, abuse, sexual assault (breast grabbing), blood, injuries, alcohol, knives, gun violence.
> 
> Song Choice: Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

Pain.

That was the only thing you could feel as you laid on the cold dirt ground. You stared blankly at the wall, tears dried on your cheeks, blood painted on your lips and chin. You struggled against your bound wrists, the leather rubbing uncomfortably on your raw, cut skin the more you twisted your hands in an attempt to get out of their tight binds.

You had no idea how long you’ve been here. Your sense of time was warped, your head spinning, you would often fade in and out of consciousness.

There was barely any light down here, only whatever light shined through the small cracks of the door as well as the gap underneath it, as the window was barred and blocked up with a dark cloth. The basement room was completely made up of dirt floors and walls, solid and cold.

Your ribs ached, their boots doing a number on them. It hurt to breathe, you found yourself wheezing, coughing up more blood that splattered everywhere before you. Your left eye was swollen shut, nose nearly being broken on several occasions.

They never touched you yet. Their grimy hands only grabbing at your breasts after ripping off your brassiere and tossing it carelessly in the corner. Not once did their disgusting hands reach for your panties that were still thankfully on your person. Otherwise, you were completely naked, no blouse or bottoms, no boots or holster. You didn’t know where your gun was at all. The dirt and mud and even your own blood was you clothing now, it was the only thing coating your naked form, cuts and bruises and small gashes too.

You would often turn over to the old door, noting the rusty iron nail jutting out, loose, waiting for someone to grab it and make an escape.

Your stomach growled loudly, making you realize the dryness in your throat.

You laid there, listening to your own wheezing, making you think back to Arthur’s own wheezing after one of his coughing fits.

Arthur…

You could still smell his scent in your nose. Tobacco, bitter but still a hint of something sweet. You found yourself yearning to be by his side once more, be by your lover yet again. You craved for his touch, for his rough voice murmuring calm things in your ear, for him to stay by your side as you healed. You prayed he would come in, burst down the basement door and take you away from this God awful place.

You found your eyes suddenly prickling with tears, your nose whistling as you sniffled, a soft sob wracking through your body as you closed your eyes.

“Arthur,” you whimpered in the cold darkness.

You felt a pang of regret ebb in your chest. You shouldn’t have gone off on your own.

* * *

The sound of the door slamming open woke you. Your eyes burned from the sudden spill of bright light in the dark basement, a small whimper leaving you. There were three of them this time which shocked you, a sense of fear pooling inside of your stomach, sitting like icy lead. It was only one that would come down here, give you just a small amount of water and food to make sure you didn’t die. Never was it three.

What did they want?

You knew what they wanted. They wanted Dutch.

One of their grimy hands snatched at your hair, yanking your head to the side to stare up at his ugly mug as well as his two buddies behind him. Your scalp burned, a soft choked whimper bubbled from your lips.

“Where,” he jerked your head forward, “is your camp, little girl?” he spat.

His breath was awful, smelling of disgusting, cheap tobacco and bottles of whiskey and rum. It made you wince and sneer, wanting to spit a glob of blood in his eye for grabbing you.

“I ain’t gonna tell ya,” you growled in a hoarse voice.

Was it even your own voice? It shocked you from how destroyed it sounded.

A harsh smack forced your own head to the side with a dry cough erupting from your throat. He dropped your head, your skull smacking against the hard ground. Your vision swayed, your head throbbed as it rolled towards the door. Your eye that wasn’t swollen shut caught a glimpse of the rusty glint of the loose nail still waiting for you in the molding.

If only you could get out of these bindings…

You suddenly coughed, body curling in on itself as you found yourself shaking and trembling, pain blooming from your stomach. The leather groaned on your wrists the more you twisted them, rubbing them together. You could feel it loosening, but it was slow. Your body only jerked around the more they wailed on you with their fists and feet, your cries choking you as they stayed in your throat, blood splattering from your lips to once again paint the floor red, only for the dirty to greedily drink it up.

You barely opened one eye just enough for you to see the doorway, light still pooling in from the stairway.

Everything you heard was muffled but loud, pounding in your ears and making your eyes throb.

From the drunken laughter of the men surrounding you to the boots and chairs scraping above you to the gunshots and horse hooves clopping around… Gunshots?

The three men had suddenly stopped and looked to the doorway before spitting at you.

The man that had once yanked your hair had done it again, his grimy fingers wrapping around your hair and yanked your head back until it curled at an uncomfortable angle, the skin of your throat stretching painfully. A soft cry choked you as you found it suddenly very hard to breathe. the two others had vanished from the room, the door slightly open now. Your hands had unbound themselves, the leather wrappings now a broken coil underneath you.

“Not a word,” he slurred as he slammed your head against the floor.

You only coughed, moaned and squirmed where you laid. The door slammed shut, but even in the darkness, you could see the nail glinting for you.

You had to crawl, your legs were numb underneath you. But even as you clawed at the hard dirt floor, you found it awfully hard to even pull yourself just a few inches closer to the nail.

You heard more guns firing, wood cracking and splintering, horses crying out and men shouting. You heard bodies hitting the floor mostly, but you heard him most of all.

“Where is she?” he boomed from above you.

‘I’m here,’ you thought to yourself, tongue too heavy to even move.

You pulled yourself another few inches only to stop when more gunshots started exploding. You could hear men crying and shrieking, you could smell the gunpowder and blood above you.

“I ain’t gonna ask again,” you heard his snarl. “Where is she?”

'I’m down here,’ you thought, your lips following the words… But no sound escaped your split lips.

“She ain’t here anymore!” you heard one of the O'Driscolls shout before a gunshot silenced him for good.

“She’s here somewhere,” he stated. “Lenny, John, go look for her!”

“I’m in the basement,” you whispered into the dead air.

Gunshots started firing off once more, you could hear boots racing around, clambering around the floorboards above you, dirt clouding around in an opaque mist.

Your fingers broke the dirt’s hard crust, you yanked yourself just a few more inches, finally closing the gap between you and the nail sitting pretty, waiting for you. You snatched it up, feeling the cold rusted iron in your cut up hands.

You heard heavy footsteps carefully treading down the squeaking staircase. you curled up, your back facing the doorframe. You cradled the nail in your beat up hands, holding it close to your chest as if it were your child, your saving grace.

The door suddenly squeaked open, cautious steps as they entered the room until you felt a hand grasp your shaking shoulder. Your grip on the nail tightened in one hand as you suddenly lurched around, only to have your wrist snatched and a scared shout leaving the man as he backed away from you.

“It’s me, goddammit!” John spat as he lowered his gun. “Fuck, (Y/n), what did they do to you?”

You didn’t answer him, only look at him with wide eyes as if you were nothing but a wild animal. You were sure you really did look like one, hair a complete mess, dirt and mud and blood coating your naked flesh, all scratched up, beaten senseless. You were sure you were a real sight to see right about now.

“Arthur,” you whispered, your throbbing joints bursting the bubble of shock around you two.

“Fuck, hold on.” John threw open the door behind him but didn’t go up the stairs. “Arthur! She’s down here!” John took one last look at you out of shock. “Almost got me with a nail too.”

You heard his heavy footsteps barrel towards you, flying down the stairs until he whipped into the room. His face dropped, a look of horror washing over his face. He shrugged off his coat and quickly wrapped it around your shaking shoulders as he looked over you.

“What did they do to you?” he muttered as he glanced at the marks on your breasts. His eyes trailed down to your panties still on your waist. Anger flashed across his face, teeth gritting. “Those fuckers better not have-”

“They didn’t,” you whimpered.

Arthur looked you in the eye again, his eyes softer before he licked his lips, his senses coming to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shoulda found you, I shoulda came for you, I-”

“You’re here now,” you hummed, your vision slowly swaying.

Arthur looked you over once more and sighed before standing up.

“It’s gonna hurt pickin’ you up, sweetheart.” You only hummed, winced when he slipped one hand under your thighs, sliding up to your knees as the only slid under your back. A shrill scream left your lefts when Arthur heaved you up, your head tilting back as tears leaked from your swollen eyes. “Shh, shh darlin’, I know it’s painful, but we gotta move ya.”

You shivered against Arthur, your head pressed to his chest. You could barely make out the sound of his heart pounding away in his chest through the roar of blood in your ears as he carried you out of this hell house.

* * *

You laid awake, watching him as he slept in a chair in the corner of the tent. His hat had slid off of his head, sitting in his lap while his arms angled off of the sides of the chair. His journal laid open, but you couldn’t make up what was drawn on the pages. A rabbit maybe? A cat? Small dog?

Soft snores left his open mouth as his head tilted to the side, curling over the top of the chair until his head had rolled off. When his chin hit his chest, he woke up with a start, eyes widening and mouth agape as he looked around with sleep still tugging at the corner of his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes as he stood, not even caring that his hat fell to the floor of the tent before he stumbled over to you.

“Why didn’ you wake me, sweetheart?” he groaned before looking down at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Didn’ wanna wake you, not with you lookin’ like that at least.” You swallowed and smiled softly. You were happy you could now see him with both eyes. “You looked peaceful.”

“Peaceful knowing you’re alright now.” Arthur took one of your hands and pressed a scratchy kiss to your palm, all while keeping his eyes pinned on you. “I love you, (Y/n) (L/n). Tough as nails and braver than any man I know.”


End file.
